


work never begun

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Lots of stuff okay how to even tag, M/M, so if anyone cares here they are, these are all of my WIPS which will never be finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: minseok is a crime lord, chansoo live in the gilded age, boys over flowers happen, and these are all of my poor, abandoned works.





	1. Chansoo Yuri on Ice / Age Gap AU

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the beautiful quote by Christina Rossetti:
> 
> _Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun._
> 
> Due to my twitter poll, I shall post. Please know I have absolutely zero intention of ever finishing any of these fics. They are WIPs I abandoned, that have been sitting in my fic folder for a loooong time. Please read only if you are okay with knowing they are not going to be continued. There are probably spelling mistake because they are left "as is". Thank you. ILY. Have an animal cracker. Also hit me up on twitter and yell at me [here](https://twitter.com/London9Calling)

It was a unique feeling, one that Kyungsoo could never quite put into words. The sensation of the perfect spin, his body remaining in balance, his hips and shoulders steady as the rink became a blur. Making a mental tally of rotations based on a barely there mark on the ice, his skates cutting a focus point as he entered the spin. The heady and delicate moment that he came out of the spin and had to orient himself in a fraction of a second, a smile on his face as he finished his routine. The perfect spin. 

Kyungsoo would never be able to explain it to his older brother or his parents or his friends from school. He couldn’t relay it to an acquaintance that asked how it felt because much like everything in the skating world, you had to live it to understand it. Each spin was different in its own way, molded by the skater and tamed by the coach. 

Kyungsoo had chased the perfect spin, the perfect jump, the perfect routine for most of his childhood and early teenage years. He finally found his version of perfection at the age of fifteen at a rink in South Korea, his parent’s birthplace. It was on the ice, frustration bleeding out of every pore, that his method, his innate movements that made each skate his and his alone, met the one who could tame him, could teach his body how to reach the heights he couldn’t reach alone. 

Park Chanyeol made Kyungsoo perfect, and then he disappeared. 

  
  


Montreal in December was bitterly cold, with strong winds blowing out of the north on a persistent basis. Kyungsoo should have been used to the cold, considering competitions took him to cold climates for months out of every year. When he stepped off the plane in Montreal four days after the Grand Prix, he tightened his scarf and retreated into his oversized down jacket, his entire body feeling the freeze in the air in a most uncomfortable way. 

“You’ll get used to it, kid.” The businessman who he had sat next to during the long flight clapped him on the back and chuckled at his reaction. “It only gets worse next month and the month after that.”

Kyungsoo smiled through a shiver, giving the man a polite response. He wasn’t planning on staying until the next month, or the month after that. He was here to find someone and when he did he had every intention of leaving with that person in tow. 

Kyungsoo plodded through the international terminal, following the signs to the ground transportation. IT was hard to walk in the long down jacket but there was no way he was going to take it off just for ease of movement. 

The terminal was bustling, a throng of international travellers weaving around each other. It was annoying, having to dodge people every hundred yards. The businessman running to catch his flight, the french woman with three children in tow,. It was like they stepped into his path the moment he approached. Kyungsoo dragged his carry on behind him, swerving to stay out of their way. He was annoyed at the minor inconvenience, but more so than he normally would be. That is because he was annoyed in general of late, everything got on his nerves. 

He knew the source of his frustrations and sour mood, which was exactly why he was skipping out on practice, on much needed training, to fly halfway across the world. He was in Montreal to fix his bad mood, a third place finish in the grand prix not even able to cure him of his burden. 

The only one who could possibly change the gloomy atmosphere hovering over him was the person who had left without a word. Kyungsoo had come to Montreal to find Park Chanyeol, and he wouldn't’ leave until he was successful. Now hopefully success would come rather easily. 

  
  
  


Kyungsoo spoke the address as best he could, falling back on the four years of french he took in high school. The taxi driver seemed to understand, or at least Kyungsoo hoped he did. The drive was around a half an hour CHECK IF THIS IS RIGHT, a silent journey that ended when the driver parked in front of a nondescript three story white apartment building. Kyungsoo paid the man and alighted, spending a few moments staring up at the building before he dared enter. 

The structure was probably built in the 1970s with small balconies sporting geometric patterned railings. The white stucco was peeling in places and the windows looked old. It was rather shabby for the likes of Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thought. It was, assuming the man was there, a certain indication that something was terribly wrong. 

Kyungsoo took one step, then two, dragging his suitcase behind him. I. HIs anxiety started as he approached the apartment building door. He had managed to keep it at bay since Chanyeol had left, the only strong emotion he had felt was anger. Now it was uncertainty and panic that made hims limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. 

Apartment #304. It was scrawled on the folded piece of paper, written out by COACH WHATEVER. 

There wasn’t an elevator, so Kyungsoo had to take the steps. It was a pain in the ass toting his suitcase behind him, even if he was in the best physical shape he had ever been in his life. An occasional thump echoed in the stairwell when his plastic cased baggage slammed against the concrete. Three stories and he was there. 

Apartment #304. Kyungsoo took a deep breath and then knocked, a surge of fear making him want to run. He stepped aside, hoping he wouldn't be visible from the peephole. When he heard rustling inside the apartment he held his breath, waiting, half wondering if maybe he had the wrong apartment, the wrong city, the wrong reality. 

The click of the deadbolt unlocking. The door handle turning. Kyungsoo gripped the handle of his suitcase tighter. And then the door opened, a sliver and then wider. 

Park Chanyeol. Six foot LOOK THIS UP. With baby fat on his cheeks and shaggy black hair. Tall and lean with gorgeous lips that formed a frown when he realized who was at his door.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Hey.” It sounded stupid, as the first word you said to someone you flew halfway across the globe to see. It sounded stupid to say to someone who had run out on your life, your career and your shared hopes and dreams without a word. But it was the only thing Kyungsoo could say at the moment, his head swimming at the sight of his former coach. 

“Why are you here?” Chanyeol asked. He sounded tired, his deep voice tinged with a coarseness that Kyungsoo didn’t remember. 

“Can I come in?” Kyungsoo gestured to his suitcase with a nod of his head. Chanyeol stepped aside, opening the door wide. 

Kyungsoo brushed past the taller man, entering the dimly lit apartment. Immediately Kyungsoo noticed how bare it was. The standard white walls didn't’ have a poster or even a calendar, tacked up. The furniture looked chap, the televison much too small for Chanyeol’s tastes. It didn't’ fit him at all.

“Where is your stereo?” Another stupid string of words.

“Back in Seoul.” Chanyeol shut the door, then flicked on the overhead light.

Kyungsoo slipped off his shoes, and took off his heavy jacket, letting it fall to the floor. His scarf was next, followed by his hat. “It is so cold, I think I need two jackets.” Nervous rambling was kind of his thing. “And more socks. Definitely another pair of socks.”

Chanyeol stood near the television, his arms folded against his chest. He watched the young skater as he made himself at home, taking a set on the shabby floral print sofa. “Kyungsoo...why did you come here?”

There were a couple of magazines scattered on the glass coffee table. It was a good focal point for Kyungsoo as he said things that mattered. “You left without a word, disappeared, no one has heard from you.” Competitive athletes of all sports have a gusto, a pointedness about them, Kyungsoo had been told. It was that gusto that made him raise his eyes and make eye contact as he delivered his grand finale. “I took third at the Grand Prix, but you probably don’t even know that, do you?”

It was unnerving how expressionless Chanyeol was at the biting words. He looked at his former pupil with indifference and the reaction made Kyungsoo feel more than anger. He felt loss, he felt sad. 

“I retired.” 

Kyungsoo snorted. Did Chanyeol really think two words would make up for what had happened?! “You retired without telling me! I had to find a new coach two weeks before the season!” Kyungsoo was irate. Two words! “After coaching me for seven years you thought I wasn’t even worth telling that to! Wasn't’ even worth a conversation. Fuck you, Chanyeol. Fuck you.”

“It’s complicated.” 

“And I am not a fifteen year old kid anymore!” Kyungsoo slammed a fist into the thin couch cushions. “I can handle being told the truth!”

A skater has a special relationship with balance, with the slightest movement of their shoulders and hips to produce desired results. Chanyeol had been a skater, he knew it as well. And his shoulders sagged, Kyungsoo noticing right away. It was telling. 

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol apologized, his voice barely above a whisper. “You deserved to know.”

Kyungsoo waited, ready to hear the truth. To take the edge off of his disappointment and anger.

Chanyeol walked to the olive green armchair, taking a seat. He leaned forward, staring at the same point Kyungsoo had a minute before. No eye contact. Not for this. 

“It was a personal matter, one that ended up with me really depressed. I ran away, and you didn't’ deserve it.”

“No, I didn’t,” Kyungsoo confirmed. 

“Kyungsoo, you should be training for worlds right now.” It was Chanyeol’s coaching voice, the soft yet firm tone that had pushed Kyungsoo to his best state, producing the best results. “Go back, win. You shouldn’t be here. You are doing fine with your new coach.”

“No, I'm not.” Kyungsoo gritted his teeth. It was a split second if thinking if he should say it before he blurted it out. “He isn’t you.”He had outdone his winning point from before. This, this is what mattered. This us what crumbled Chanyeol’s demeanor, what made him look almost pained. It hit the spot, accurate, precise. 

“Kyungsoo.” A whisper, half pain, half anger. 

“Come back with me, coach me at worlds.” Kyungsoo looked at his coach with hope in his eyes. 

“I can’t. I…”

“I am staying until you can,” Kyungsoo said firmly. “Because Park Chanyeol doesn’t run away. This isn't you, and we both know it.”

Chanyeol settled back in the chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. When he offered no further protests Kyungsoo knew he had won.

  
  
  
  


Park Chanyeol had never taken a Grand Prix title. He had never won at worlds. He boasted impressive finishes in national competitions but never took the top spot. An injury at the age of twenty three had ended his competitive figure skating career, leaving him lost and depressed. He began coaching a year later, unable to move on from the rink even if he couldn’t compete. 

Do Kyungsoo was his first skater, a wide eyed fifteen year old with a fierce competitive streak and a temper to match. He struggled with jumps, his spins were sloppy. He could be disarmingly quiet, staying silent until his frustration exploded into a self deprecating blame session. Chanyeol had taught his young student how to direct his pent up anger elsewhere, how to use the strong emotions in his routines to glorious effect. Chanyeol’s gentle but firm approach worked and everything clicked - for both of them. The coach refined his technique and the skater progressed quickly. Chanyeol coached him to a win in Nationals and then the Grand Prix. He finished fifth at worlds that year. Perfect, that is how Kyungsoo used to refer to him as. The perfect coach. 

Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo mused as he glanced over at at the tall man sprawled out in his armchair, still snored horribly. He still watched anime and worshiped One Piece. Judging by the soda bottle on the coffee table he still had a habit of leaving a sliver of liquid in anything he drank. He was uncoordinated at times, unusually clumsy for a figure skater. He had a strange fear of chickens, and told Kyungsoo he had never once been on a boat in his entire life.

Park Chanyeol was someone Kyungsoo wasn’t ready to give up on because until six months ago Chanyeol had never given up on him. As Kyungsoo settled into the sofa bed, his coat thrown over him, he made himself a promise. He wouldn't’ give up on this man. He couldn't’.

  
  
  


“Are eggs okay?” Chanyeol asked, tossing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He opened the refrigerator door and crouched down, the sound of his rummaging letting Kyungsoo know that the fridge was far from organized. How typical of Chanyeol.

“Yeah, eggs are fine.” Kyungsoo sat on the sofa, the thin blanket he had found wrapped around his shoulders. His back ached from sleeping on the shabby piece of furniture. He wasn’t going to complain, however, not when Chanyeol had spent the night in the armchair, never waking up and staggering to his bedroom. 

The atmosphere seemed lighter that morning, Chanyeol whistled as he moved about the kitchen, a peek into the carefree and fun personality that had been devoid in the man Kyungsoo had encountered the day before. 

How do I get him to come back, Kyungsoo worried his bottom lip. How do you...fix someone?

“I only know how to make scrambled,” Chanyeol called from the kitchen.

“That’s cool.”

“Well it is going to have to be cool because that is your only option.”

I need to find out what broke him to begin with, Kyungsoo decided, only then could he begin to fix him. 

  
  


Kyungsoo dared to ask during breakfast. He picked at his eggs with his fork, eyes cast at his plate as he asked, “That personal matter, the one that made you leave, can you tell me about it?”

“No,” Chanyeol answered firmly. 

Kyungsoo raised his eyes from his plate and looked at his former coach. “Why not?”

“Kyungsoo…” Chanyeol gave him a warning look.

Kyungsoo had to accept it, at least for the time being. He changed the topic. “Do you want to show me around today? I haven’t been to Montreal before.”

“You want to go sightseeing?” Chanyeol lifted his brows in question.

“Yeah, why not. Beats spending the day coped up with Mr. Depression I mean, hey Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo deadpanned, his stoic expression crumbling as Chanyeol called him three different choice names and then accidentally knocked over his orange juice. 

  
  
  
  


After a day trudging around in the bitter cold, Kyungsoo's feet hurt. His nose was numb. And of all the ironies, they ended up wandering to a skating rink in a park.


	2. Xiuhan Gangster AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note probably a quarter of how I researched and wrote this eventually went into the fic [The Good Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491828)

#  Chapter 1

The reinforced metal door was unlocked, a guard held it open as he cast a bored glance in Luhan’s direction. He tapped his foot and gestured towards the door as if to say he didn’t have all the time in the world to wait. Luhan knew that was a lie. The only other thing he might be doing at three o’clock in the afternoon was harassing prisoners for his own amusement. The sick fuck. 

Little details like this hadn’t sunken in yet. Not fully. That after ten years of memorizing the habits and schedules of the dozens of guards none of it mattered any more. After ten years of trying to survive in a den of murderers, rapists, and thieves the game was over. He survived. He didn’t have to care. This part of his life was over. He was free.

A few steps and he was outside, his prison issue shoes hitting the pavement with a dull thud. Whatever clothes he had originally owned were long gone. He couldn’t even remember what he used to dress like, what expensive shoes he probably lost the first time he was issued the drab blue garments. 

Luhan squinted. The sky was overcast yet the world seemed so bright. His eyes weren’t used to this much natural light after so many years locked inside. He looked around with narrowed eyes, assessing his surroundings. He was standing in the alley that hugged the west side of the prison, a dark concrete wall across from him. Still so drab even if there were no bars. 

“Luhan!” He heard a familiar voice ring out, sounding over the noise of the metal door slamming shut. It was strange to hear his name. Inside you were only called by your number. He was 0519. But now…now he was Luhan. 

He didn’t have time to respond before he was swept into a bone crushing hug. He returned the hug with awkward movements, not quite sure where to put his hands. It had been a decade since anyone had hugged him.

“Yixing.” 

The hug ended as roughly as it began. Yixing pushed Luhan away playfully, flashing a bright smile.

In ten years Yixing had aged gracefully. His dark hair was cut in a fashionable fringe. His face was showing no signs of wrinkles, even as he cracked a smile. His dimples gave him a youthful appearance. He was still lean, still young looking. Dressed in a leather jacket and dark jeans he could pass for someone in their early twenties. It made Luhan feel self-conscious. He feared looking at himself in the mirror, he feared how haggard he likely appeared. He was twenty eight now but he guessed he looked years older. 

“Come on, I am sure that you want to get out of here.” Yixing looped his arm around Luhan’s and dragged him down the alley. The feeling of his friend’s arm through his made Luhan tense. It was strange to feel such little gestures of affection. It was strange to be this close to another human being. 

His mind was in a fog as he let himself be led down the alley. He briefly wondered if that is what everyone felt when they first tasted freedom. A little bit lost, overwhelmed, and maybe a bit empty inside. 

“The car is parked around the corner,” Yixing rattled off. “I bought some food before I came. Thought you might want a taste of something decent.”

Luhan nodded dumbly. Ah, food. He could eat good food now. 

They rounded the corner and true to Yixing’s word a dark black sports car was waiting. 

“How did you afford this?” Luhan stared at the vehicle with wide eyes. The car looked insanely expensive. 

“We have been busy. I will explain it all later.”

Busy. They had been busy. What had he missed in the last ten years? Sure Yixing and Zhi Xiang visited him every few months. Sure they chatted with him for the twenty minutes they were allowed. But of course they couldn’t tell him  _ everything _ , not when their conversations were monitored. 

Yixing pulled a key out of his pocket. “Get in. I will take you to Zhi Xiang’s place, he is eager to see you.”

Luhan did as he was told and got in the car. That was easy for him, following orders. That was all he had known for the last many years. Freedom, he considered, may be difficult to get used to.

  
  
  


Minseok brushed the dirt off of the base of the grey stone, not caring that the specks of brown were transferred to his designer suit jacket. After clearing away the dirt he found that his hand lingered. He aimlessly traced a finger along the base of the gravestone. It had been less than a year since they planted it in the ground.

“Father,” he whispered.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, crouched down in front of the stone and staring at the engraving. He wasn’t the talkative type. He wasn’t going to launch into a one sided conversation with the deceased. No, just being here was what he had wanted. It was the reason he had asked Changmin to drive him even when they didn’t really have the time. 

There was something about being close to his father’s grave that offered some measure of comfort. It was a strange thought considering when the man was alive Minseok had been terrified of him. His father was intimidating by design, his lifestyle and work making him cold and abrasive. Minseok wondered if he was like that too now. He knew that in some ways he was – or perhaps he should say he was colder and more abrasive. He had always been a bit like his father, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. 

After a few minutes he stood, and wiped his hands on his black dress pants. He didn’t have to check his watch to know that it was time to go. The sun was setting, painting the sky in a blur of pink and orange. It would be a two hour drive back to the city, a complete miracle if he made the meeting on time. 

“Minseok, we need to-“’

“I know. I am coming.” Minseok waved Changmin back towards the car.

With one last look at his father’s grave he sighed. He turned around and started the walk back to the car. With each step the dry leaves that blanketed the ground crunched under his shoes. A dry and brittle sound to accompany a sad and lonely place.

  
  


When Yixing turned into the underground parking lot Luhan’s jaw dropped. “Zhi Xiang lives here?” 

He didn’t have to explain what he meant by  _ here _ . The building was in one of the more upscale sections of Beijing, a neighborhood full of high rise luxury apartments and boutique shops selling designer brands. 

Yixing nodded. “Like I said I need to fill you in.”

“I guess so,” Luhan mumbled as Yixing parked the car. 

He trailed behind Yixing like a lost puppy – which in many ways he was. Past the rows of luxury cars, through a locked door, and to an elevator. 

“Zhi Xiang told the other guys to stay away for now, thought you might want things low key since it is your first day out,” Yixing said as he pushed the button for the fifty first floor. 

The other guys. Yifan...but who else? Luhan had given up wondering how they were all doing, they never visited him in prison and in his mind they ceased to be. It was strange how the people who used to mean so much to him, the kids who grew up with him in the same hellhole of a slum, were no longer people he spared a thought for. 

An automated voice announced they had reached the 51 st floor, the elevator doors sliding open to reveal a spacious corridor. Luhan was silent as he followed Yixing down the hall. 

Yixing stopped in front of a door. “Home sweet home.” Yixing punched a code into the keypad with a speed that indicated he knew it well.

Luhan had a moment of hesitation as he faced the open door. It was in many ways ironic that two times in one day he faced such a simple task – walking through a doorway – but both instances symbolized a lot more than the bare bones action. Freedom. A return. The unknown. A step towards something. A step away from something. A small set of movements that meant big things. 

“Coming?” Yixing shot him a suspicious look.

“Yeah.” Luhan shrugged off his apprehension. He didn’t really have anywhere else to go, his hesitation was momentary. He hoped he looked confident as he walked back into a world that he was a decade removed from.

  
  
  


“Mr. Kim, you should look at it from  _ our  _ point of view.” The balding middle aged man was at the edge of his seat. The dim lighting and black leather furniture made the entire place look ominous. The backroom of an exclusive club, the perfect place for a man to plead his case. “If you had any business sense you would understand.”

Minseok tilted his head to the side. He held back the laughter that he desperately wanted to let out. Their point of view? Their point of view was humorous at best, a reason to be shot at worst. 

“If you don’t transfer the funds,” Minseok checked his watch, “by ten o’clock tomorrow morning I cannot promise what will happen.”

Mr. Lee tried to hide his annoyance but Minseok caught the way he stiffened, the way he narrowed his eyes for a split second. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes, in fact I am.” Minseok smiled. “And I trust that you understand that this is a serious matter.” He stared at his opponent, keeping his front of being calm and collected. 

“You haven’t heard a word of what I said, have you?” Mr. Lee’s face was turning increasingly red as the seconds passed. 

“Oh, I heard. However they are all excuses and mean nothing to me, especially when you signed a contract. Need I remind you?” Minseok enjoyed seeing people squirm in situations like this. He enjoyed watching grown men morph into trapped animals, cornered and afraid for what was to come. 

“We both know a contract for illegal dealings won’t hold up in court.” Mr. Lee’s voice cracked. 

“I never thought it would.” Minseok shrugged. “Mr. Lee I don’t have my partners sign contracts for the purpose of taking them in front of a judge.”

“Then why do you do it? Your father never dabbled in such frivolous formalities.”

Minseok leaned forward. Tenting his hands together he locked eyes with the man. “You would be amazed what I can do once I have your signature and seal.”

“Pfft. Forgery? You really are nowhere near as clever as your father.” Mr. Lee shook his head nervously. “Now if you will excuse me I am done talking to you,  _ boy _ .” The middle aged man rose from the leather club chair and began a hasty walk towards the door. His knees bumped into the mahogany coffee table, the stack of papers sitting in the middle shifting slightly with the motion. He brushed it off, ignoring it, and went on his way. 

Minseok waited to speak until Mr. Lee had his hands on the door knob, seconds away from leaving. “Your daughter goes to school in Switzerland, doesn’t she?”

He froze. Success.

“It is amazing how a prestigious boarding school will let their students be released to perfect strangers providing they are sent a signed and sealed request.” Minseok couldn’t help it, the corners of his mouth titled upward. He had the man right where he wanted him.

“You wouldn’t.” Mr. Lee gripped the door handle. 

“Oh, but I would. And have. Now if you want to see your little princess again I would suggest you deposit the funds as soon as possible.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, thank you.” Minseok watched with amusement as the man yanked the door open and stalked out. He had no doubt he would see his money in a few hours. Fathers could be the silliest creatures when they were too attached to their offspring. His own father had taught him that long ago. He issued reminders every time he made it clear he could care less if Minseok lived or died. 

“I have to admit I am impressed.” Changmin moved from where he had been leaning against the wall, lazily observing the conversation. “Especially that he thought we had his daughter.”

“He is too stupid to check.” Minseok knew when to bluff and in this case it was worth it. “He knows I could do it so he believes it.”

“Your father would be proud.” Changmin took the seat that was only recently vacated by an irate Mr. Lee. He stretched out his legs and yawned. 

Minseok knew that coming from Changmin it was a worthy compliment. The man had worked for the family for almost fifteen years, following in the footsteps of his own father. He was a lawyer by training but an everyman by experience. A confident, a sounding board and a driver among other things. He was Minseok’s right hand man. He knew the family business the same way Minseok did – from childhood. An ugly and strange way to grow up. 

“Any word from Qī diǎn shí fēn?” Minseok shifted topics, he didn’t want to think about Mr. Lee anymore.

“No, not yet. “ Changmin pulled out one of his cell phones and checked his messages. “I am starting to think this deal isn’t going to happen.”

Minseok sighed. He was tired, the day had been exhausting. A morning full of legitimate business coupled with a long trip to his father’s grave and then dealing with a supplier plus the likes of Mr. Lee had left him completely drained of energy. “Call me tonight if you hear anything.”

Minseok doubted they would hear anything. Not if the night cooperated as much as the day had. So tiring, all of it. Good with the bad. Another day. Another problem. 

“Will do.” Changmin went back to looking at his phone. Minseok debated falling asleep in the chair, his internal musings interrupted by a loud noise. The door was thrown open, thudding against the paneling. 

“Boss, we have a problem.” Tao stared at Minseok, his expression serious and foreboding. 

Minseok didn’t want to know. But he had to know. It was his duty after all. It was his business.

  
  


“We are back!” Yixing called out as they stepped into the apartment. 

Luhan toed off his shoes, kicking the cheap white things in a corner near the door. He felt uncomfortable when Yixing didn’t do the same, instead striding into the apartment without a second glance at Luhan. 

Luhan plodded down the hall, the black tile flooring cool against his bare feet. He tried not to gape at the décor. So they had money now, and apparently they liked to show off. 

The hallway opened up into a large living room with a to-die for view – a wall of windows looking out on the city, a large balcony with low walls promising an even better view. A black leather sectional dominated the space. Sitting in the middle, arms behind his head, slumped down like he had no care in the world, was Zhi Xiang. 

“Hey.” 

It was just as much of a greeting as Luhan would have expected from him. “Hey.”

“You look like shit.” Zhi Xiang cocked his head to the side.

“Thanks. You too.” It was a lie. Zhi Xiang didn’t look like shit. Sure he was older, in his late thirties now. But he had aged well. Luhan had thought so every time he had come to visit him. 

“You are so fucking charming, I swear.” Yixing sighed at the older man. “Luhan, if you want to change, shower or whatever, I bought some clothes for you.”

Shower. Change. Whatever. Luhan nodded. “That would be good.”

“Follow me.” Yixing moved towards a door at the far end of the room.

“Luhan.” Zhi Xiang called after him. “It is good to have you back.”

Luhan didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. Everything had already been said at one point or another in the last ten years, from behind a pane of glass, a telephone to his ear. He kept walking. 

  
  


He didn’t look that bad, all things considered. Luhan stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wiping the steam away as it accumulated on the glass. Sure he had some wrinkles but he didn’t look ancient. He almost dared to think he looked his age. His black hair was shaggy, not stylish. But his eyes still had life in them. His cheeks were not as gaunt as he had thought they would be. Hell, for most of his life people had always thought he was younger than he actually was. It used to annoy him. Maybe now it was a good thing. 

The clothes Yixing had given him fit well, maybe too well. The black pants were tighter than he would have liked but they weren’t unbearable. The simple grey t-shirt was loose but not loose enough. He had gotten too used to prison clothes, it seemed. 

He showered for thirty minutes, unable to pull himself away from the sensation of hot water streaming down his body. He only turned off the water when he felt his stomach turn, his nerves making him feel nauseous. He dressed quickly and after a brief stop in front of the mirror he returned to the living room. 

Yixing and Zhi Xiang were sitting next to each other on the sofa, each holding a bottle of beer.

“Can I have one?” Luhan asked as he took a seat next to them. He hadn’t planned on drinking beer his first day out but he hadn’t really planned anything. Plus he needed something to calm him down. 

“Fridge.” Zhi Xiang pointed towards the kitchen.

“Sit. I’ll get it.” Yixing darted off to retrieve the beer, leaving Luhan alone with Zhi Xiang.

“So are you going to tell me how in the hell you came to live in a place like this?” Luhan leaned back into the sofa, casting a questioning glance at his old friend. “Drugs? People? Weapons? What are you dealing in now?”

“All of the above?” Zhi Xiang smiled, that familiar shit eating grin that never failed to make Luhan equal parts annoyed and amused. 

“Are you still running with Qī diǎn shí fēn?” When Luhan had gone away all three of them had all been a part of the gang to certain degrees – Zhi Xiang more than Yixing and Luhan. The two younger guys ran errands, small time petty shit for a bunch of gangsters. They weren’t members, not like Zhi Xiang. They didn’t have the gang tattoo, hell they didn’t even know who the real boss of the outfit was. 

“He leads it now.” Yixing made it sound like it was all sunshine as he reappeared with a bottle of beer and the news that Zhi Xiang was now a gang boss. 

“What?!” Luhan balked at the news. Zhi Xiang was leading the gang?

“Half of the founders are dead, the rest in prison. I am surprised you didn’t know considering you were on the inside too.”

“I wasn’t preoccupied with the latest underworld dealings,” Luhan drawled.

Zhi Xiang shrugged. “Well, you missed a lot then. Fucking morons took each other out one by one until only the old crew from the neighborhood was left.  _ We _ are Qī diǎn shí fēn now.”

So that was it. In ten years Yixing, Zhi Xiang, Yifan, and the other guys had taken control of the gang. Fuck. He hadn’t been expecting that. Sure he had thought he would come out and find them still doing illegal shit. But not running the show, not heading up an outfit. 

“So how bout it Lu, you want in?” Zhi Xiang took a swig of his beer, smacking his lips as he swallowed. 

Luhan had the intense urge to break his bottle of beer over Zhi Xiang’s head. 

Luhan finished another beer. He set the bottle down next to the others, the glass clinking together as one tipped over and rolled across the balcony. How many had it been now? Six? Seven?

“You should think it over. “Yixing sat next to him. The night sky, or more accurately the familiar Beijing haze, hung over them as they sat on the balcony. Luhan had retreated outside shortly after Zhi Xiang had made him an offer. Zhi Xiang hadn’t followed, leaving shortly after without a word. It was only Yixing and Luhan now, sharing beers and words here and there. 

Luhan popped the cap off another bottle. “I hope she is dead.”

Yixing stayed silent, staring up at the sky. Luhan knew that he agreed with his sentiment, he had said the same thing after all many years ago. But now, perhaps he held back, not wanting to open that wound even wider than it already was. 

They sat in silence for a while, each deep in their own thoughts. Yixing was hard to read, and honestly Luhan had enough on his mind that he didn’t try to understand what the other man might be thinking. No, he was too busy debating through the haze of alcohol if he should accept Zhi Xiang’s offer. 

After all, what was there for him anymore? He was broken, alone if it wasn’t for Zhi Xiang and Yixing. They were offering him a life. They were offering him their support. They were offering him something beyond wandering alone through his ruin. In the last decade his immediate concern was getting through the next twenty four hours. He hadn’t think of what might come when he was free because he doubted that day would actually come. But it had. 

“Listen, I don’t know if it will sway you one way or another, but Zhi Xiang wants you for a specific reason.”

Luhan’s silence was enough for Yixing to continue. “We have an opportunity with some Koreans. Real high end shit, enough to make us all more money than we could have ever imagined. The deal isn’t done, not yet. Someone needs to go to Korea and convince them we are game, trustworthy, that sort of shit.”

“He really wants to put that on my shoulders?” Luhan had a hard time believing that Zhi Xiang had that much faith in him, their longstanding friendship aside. 

Yixing scooted his chair closer to Luhan’s. “Lu, you might not want to believe it, but we all have a lot of faith in you. Fuck ten years gone. Everything starts now and we need you.”

“Because I can speak Korean?” Luhan didn’t want to remember why he learned, it was too painful. Yet the fact remained - despite the bad memories - that he was fluent. 

“Yes, but not just because of that. You are our brother, who else could we trust?”

It was too much to think of, too much to digest in a short period of time. Luhan didn’t give an answer, not then. Instead he drank with Yixing, sharing small snippets of conversation into the night. It was pushing midnight when Luhan finally decided. When Zhi Xiang returned Luhan had sobered up enough to give him his answer. “I’ll do it.”

Zhi Xiang flashed a lopsided smile in response. “I knew I could count on you.”

  
  


“Where the fuck is he?!” Sooyoung was drunk. She was drunk and belligerent which shouldn’t have been Minseok’s problem. Normally. But this was his club and she was demanding to see his brother. 

Tao, all six feet and lean muscle, watched helplessly from his spot at the bar. Some bodyguard he was. 

“Do yourself a favor and go home.” Minseok, hands on hips, hoped he got his point across. 

Sooyoung scoffed, a response that was exaggerated in her drunkenness. “Home?! Why would I go home when that asshole owes me an explanation?!”

Minseok was thankful that this place wasn’t open to the public like the other two clubs he owned. This was a members only, what went on inside never went beyond the walls or there would be hell to pay. Which led him to wonder, who had let the drunken angry woman in anyway? Another glance in Tao’s direction and Minseok had his answer. 

Sooyoung swayed on her feet as she began to wag a finger in Minseok’s face. “Tell your brother I want to see him or-“ She paused for a moment and hiccupped. “I will call his wiffffeee.”

Minseok waved a hand in front of his face in an attempt to block out the strong odor of liquor on Sooyoung’s breath. He failed miserably. “Go home, Sooyoung. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what spending the night with him meant.”

Minseok knew the woman well enough to expect a slap. She was like that even when she was sober. He expected it, allowing him the time to step back and out of the way of her manicured hand as she swung it in his direction. His dodge only enraged the woman further. A slew of expletives escaped her mouth, punctuated by a few broken sobs. 

Minseok felt a headache coming on. Fucking Chanyeol and his women. In a desperate measure to get the girl to stop, Minseok took a hold of her shoulder. He led her out of the club, a surprisingly easy task now that she had gone from enraged to a broken and sobbing mess. A half an hour later he was parked in front of her rundown apartment building. 

“Go inside.” Minseok didn’t bother looking over at the girl. He just wanted her to get the hell away from him so he could go home and sleep. 

“Do you want to come up?” she asked quietly.

“No.”

Sooyoung left without another word. He wished he was sure that would be the last of her that he would ever see but he doubted it. Minseok started the car, pausing for a moment as the low noise of the radio – some jazz station Changmin liked - played. He prepared to shift the car into gear when one of his phones rang. He dug around in the console and pulled it out. Changmin.

“Hey.”

“They said they are in. are sending someone in a few days.”

“Great. We can discuss it in the morning.”

Minseok cradled the phone, a smirk playing across his face. So Qī diǎn shí fēn would work with them after all. It was good news, considering what Minseok had to gain from the deal. In fact he had everything to gain – and Qī diǎn shí fēn had everything to lose, and lose they would. They just didn’t know it yet. 

#  Chapter 2

Minseok made a valiant attempt to rid himself of the source of his discomfort. Valiant but futile. The large grey cat merely shifted his weight, completely nonplussed at his owner’s attempts to get him to relocate. After a few frustrated moments Minseok gave up and let the cat settle on top of his chest. 

“You do this to annoy me, don’t you?”

The cat let out a short chirp of a meow. Minseok sighed. Stupid Mr. Whiskers. If the feline hadn’t been a gift from his niece he probably would have cast it out long ago. Okay, maybe that was a lie. He was a  _ little _ fond of the thing. Just a little. A tiny bit. It was mildly nice to have something to come home to, even if that something walked on all fours and went to the bathroom in a box. 

Minseok finally shoved the cat off of him when his cell started ringing. He didn’t have to look to see who it was because he knew. 

“Be there in an hour.” Changmin, without fail, called every morning with the same message. The man was like clockwork. After muttering a “yep” Minseok stumbled half asleep towards the bathroom.

A hot shower and two cups of coffee later he left Mr. Whiskers with a set of instructions. “If you claw up my couch again I will feed you to a dog.” The cat didn’t seem bothered by it. Stupid cat. 

Changmin was waiting for him downstairs, Tao was loitering around next to him. 

“Morning boss.” Tao gave Minseok a mock salute.

“Morning.” Minseok took the coffee Changmin offered him. This was the routine. At least for the most part. Same time, same coffee, same tired expression. There were the times when they were up late, down by the wharfs as the sun rose, exceptions that were necessitated by business. But when they weren’t pulling all-nighters this was their reality. 

“We need to go to the office.” Minseok knew that Changmin was already aware of this, he wasn’t saying it for his benefit. It was to tell Tao where they were off to. Tao never had an idea of where they would be going and that was by design. He had only been in Minseok’s employ for six months, not nearly long enough to fully earn his trust. 

“Junmyeon called, Chanyeol’s in.” Changmin reported as he sat down in the driver’s seat. True to form Minseok slipped into the back seat, Tao sitting in the passenger’s seat. “I am guessing he wants the latest news on the shareholder meeting.”

Minseok wasn’t surprised. “Good, because I need to punch him in the face for having to deal with Sooyoung last night.”

Minseok didn’t miss the snicker that escaped Tao. The bodyguard held his hand over his mouth, trying to disguise his mirth. 

“Like you should laugh, you let her in. I should fire you.” Minseok enjoyed how serious and quiet Tao suddenly became.

The drive to the office was relatively short in distance but always took at least a half an hour due to traffic. The office of Keun Pado Corporation, or KPC for short, was housed on seven floors in one of the tallest buildings in the city – smack dab in the middle of the busiest area in the metropolis. Traffic was always hell in the mornings.

Minseok usually spent the drive reading up on the days meetings, the legitimate ones that is. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend half the day in his office fielding calls from shareholders and speaking to a client now and then. Granted he wasn’t the President or CEO of the corporation (or half a day in the office wouldn’t cut it). That honor went to a man who had majored in business and could actually manage the thing. 

Minseok’s role was to keep the family involved in case anyone started asking questions about his bank account. Chief operating officer was his title but he wasn’t that heavily involved in the day to day running of the place. Sure he had a say in the decisions, but not like he did with his other, more lucrative businesses. The businesses that had made his family wealthy enough to create a legitimate looking front to begin with. 

Minseok scrolled through his schedule absentmindedly, his mind wandering away from KPC and towards the deal with Qī diǎn shí fēn. He was preoccupied with the bargain that had been struck the night before. The Chinese had agreed to send someone, which meant it would only be a matter of time before his plan – or to be more accurate, his late father’s plan – could be enacted. It was good news, great news. There was a lot to decide, a lot to figure out, most importantly when. The exact moment when he could seize what he wanted. 

“Can’t he park his car in his own goddamn spot?” Changmin snapped as he pulled into the building’s parking garage.

Minseok looked out the window to see Chanyeol’s black Mercedes in the spot reserved for him. He wasn’t surprised. 

  
  
  


Luhan was used to being up early. He was also used to having to sleep with his hands outside the blankets and facing a well-lit hallway. Most people would assume with such restrictions finally gone he would sleep well. He didn’t. Around 2 in the morning he got up and turned the light on. By 6 he was up, milling about Zhi Xiang’s kitchen.

It was 10 before Yixing woke up – 11 before Zhi Xiang stumbled from his room with a horrible case of bed head. Luhan had parked himself in front of the television shortly after giving up on sleep, reacquainting himself with the fact there was never anything decent on tv. 

“We need to drop by the warehouse and get Xiao Lu up to speed.” Zhi Xiang and his knowing smile plopped down on the sofa, shifting the cushions as he sat next to Luhan.

Luhan paused for a moment, his old nickname feeling extremely foreign to his ears. Brushing the term of endearment away he guessed aloud, “I probably don’t want to know about this warehouse, do I?”

“Maybe not, but you don’t really have a choice,” Zhi Xiang answered smugly.

A long drive out of Beijing (complete with Zhi Xiang and Yixing arguing over the radio while Luhan feared for his life) ended up at the said warehouse. A dirty, ramshackle building that was set out in the midst of rice paddies. A strange place to put a warehouse.

“Why not find something in the old neighborhood?” Luhan asked as they pulled up, shocked at how distant the place was. The neighborhood where they had grown up was safe – assuming you were one of them. People didn’t snitch on their own kind, not when they had little reason to respect the authority of the police force. 

“It is gone,” Zhi Xiang answered simply.

“Gone?!” Luhan furrowed his brow at the announcement. 

“Government bulldozed it over five years ago. Said it was urban blight, the fuckers.”

Luhan felt a pang of sadness at the loss. Sure it was a slum, sure he had awful memories from that place. But he had good ones too. Great ones. It was where he had met his friends, it is where they had learned how to live. 

“Now please don’t freak out once we get inside.” Zhi Xiang shot Luhan a warning look as he slid the huge warehouse door open. 

Luhan peered inside, immediately confused. He didn’t see anything alarming inside. Boxes were scattered about haphazardly, but other than the containers the place looked empty. Zhi Xiang gestured for Luhan to step inside and he did so without hesitation. They were halfway across the cavernous space when he heard a groan. It sounded mechanical, like gears turning. Suddenly the far end of the room was sliding away, a hidden chamber revealed. 

Now Luhan understood what he might be alarmed about. Long tables, glass tubing and what looked like chemistry equipment, people in masks, barrels and white sacks. The workers paid no mind to the fact that the door was open, revealing what appeared to be a large drug lab. One person stood out to Luhan, his sheer height hard to forget. 

“Luhan…” Yifan, the mask over his face muffling his words, stalked out of the room. “I haven’t seen you in…”

“Ten years.” Luhan filled in the blank. 

Yifan, the big clumsy oaf of a man, bridged the gap between them. He stood in front of Luhan and stared at him with wide eyes. 

Zhi Xiang didn’t seem to care about the reunion, he launched right into the details. “We make high grade meth.” He sounded thrilled about this fact. “Those sacks are grade a heroin straight from the golden triangle. Make sure you don’t get too close without a mask, I wouldn’t want my favorite little convict to die.”

“Can you believe this big shot?” Luhan laughed as he gave Luhan a hard clap on the back. 

“Please tell me you aren’t taking this shit too?” Luhan hadn’t seen any indication of drug use the night prior but he wanted to be sure. 

“Pfft. I think we both know I am too smart for that.” Zhi Xiang hovered near the doorway of the lab, watching the workers. 

“How did you manage to get into this?” Luhan honestly couldn’t believe that they were running an operation of this size. The lab was huge, he didn’t even dare to think of the street value of the drugs. 

“Ah, my charming personality, of course. It pains me you had to ask.” Zhi Xiang clutched his chest in mock indignation. 

“He found someone who actually thinks he is trustworthy, someone who also happens to sell cheap drugs in bulk,” Yixing deadpanned. 

“That explains it.” Luhan sighed. “I am guessing this all has something to do with the Korean deal?”

“What Korean deal?” Yifan asked. Luhan didn’t miss the annoyed look that Zhi Xiang shot his way. So Yifan didn’t know about it. Interesting. 

“Yeah, what Korean deal?” Yixing tried to save face by appearing just as confused as Yifan. Oddly enough it worked. 

“I – uh, sorry guys. I am still kind of foggy on stuff,” Luhan mumbled. Yifan didn’t bring it up again and Luhan remained quiet.

They loitered around the warehouse for almost an hour, chatting with Yifan and observing the operations. A few well-armed guards appeared now and then, apparently doing rounds on the place. At one point Luhan spied a holster under Zhi Xiang’s jacket when he moved. The size of their operation seemed to warrant firearms. It was a strange thought, that he was standing in the middle of a warehouse that needed to be protected with assault weapons, that his old friend now carried a powerful handgun on his side. 

When Zhi Xiang announced that it was time to go Yifan made a point to invite Luhan out for drinks sometime soon. Luhan said yes but he had no intention of keeping the promise. It was a formality. 

“So the other guys don’t know about the deal?” Luhan asked as Zhi Xiang sped along the dirt road leading away from the warehouse. 

“No and I mean to keep it that way – at least until this thing is certain. I don’t need half the guys getting greedy in case this thing falls through.”

Luhan was not reassured by the potential for the  _ deal to fall through _ . What would happen to him if the Koreans pulled out? “So what is it? Are you going to sell them the drugs? Is the Chinese market too small for you?”

“The land of the rising sun my friend.” Zhi Xiang took a corner particularly hard, causing Luhan to grip the seat in fear. 

“Japan?”

“They have the highest street value in the world,” Yixing announced cheerfully. 

“The Koreans can get our stuff into Japan as long as we give ‘em a cut. We will end up making twenty times what it cost to produce the stuff even with paying them.” Zhi Xiang sped up, the engine barely making a sound as he traversed the dirt road at an alarming speed.

“As long as I get them to trust us.” 

“Yep.”

Luhan groaned. No pressure or anything. 

  
  
  


Minseok was three steps into his office when he started yelling. 

“Get your goddamn feet off my desk and why in the hell are you here anyway?” He glared at his younger half-brother. Chanyeol was completely un-phased by his words. He stayed where he was, feet on Minseok’s desk, and smiled. 

“Morning brother.”

Minseok ignored him. He stalked over to his chair and with as much force as he could muster dumped Chanyeol on the floor with a hard kick. 

“Ouch, that hurt!”

“Good, I wanted it to.” Minseok took his seat. “Now why are you here?”

“Were you going to tell me about the deal with Qī diǎn shí fēn?”

Minseok was on his feet in a second, an instant reflex to the stupidity that had just spewed from Chanyeol’s mouth. His hand was on the taller man’s neck before Chanyeol could dodge the assault. Minseok shoved him hard against the wall. “If you ever mention things like that in the office again-“

Chanyeol’s eyes bugged out as he gasp for air. He knew better. Talking about their other business at KPC was forbidden. 

When Minseok released Chanyeol he started rubbing his neck and coughing. Minseok was pissed. Not only had Chanyeol brought the other business up where he shouldn’t have there was also the fact that he knew about the deal. No one was supposed to know about it yet other than Changmin and himself. 

“You really need anger management classes, hyung.” Chanyeol slumped down in one of the chairs facing Minseok’s desk, his hand still massaging his neck. 

“I saw Sooyoung last night.” Minseok logged onto his work computer as he spoke. “She threatened to call your wife.”

Chanyeol exhaled sharply. “Fine, I won’t see her again.”

“I should cut your dick off.”

“You know you would probably be a lot nicer if you got laid now and then.” Chanyeol picked up the glass paperweight that sat on Minseok’s desk. He began throwing it up in the air and catching it. “I heard there is a shareholders meeting in a week. Anything I need to do for it?”

“Show up and don’t open your mouth.” Minseok hated that Chanyeol had anything to do with the business but their late father had insisted that he have a relationship with KPC, even if in all reality it was a false title with no responsibility. A paper trail and nothing more. Their father wouldn’t stand for Chanyeol to actually be involved in the business. 

“Junmyeon gave me a sneak peek at some of the numbers.” 

Minseok narrowed his eyes. Fucking Junmyeon. Fucking Chanyeol. Fucking day. “Get out or I am calling in Tao. And please keep your dick in your pants unless your wife takes it out.”

“He is probably busy making out with Sehun.”

Minseok narrowed his eyes. “Sehun is here?”

“Yeah, he tagged along. See you later bro. Have a  _ wonderful _ day.” Chanyeol whistled as he sauntered out of Minseok’s office. 

Minseok felt a headache coming on. Sehun was not supposed to be in the office any more than Chanyeol was supposed to be mentioning Qī diǎn shí fēn . Oh Sehun was a member of their gang. Oh Sehun or any of the other guys were never to step foot in the place. It was a connection that could be traced. Minseok groaned. And he was making out with Tao? Great, his bodyguard was fucking his underling?

A rhythmic knock sounded on the office door, which meant it could only be one person. “Come in.”

Kim Junmyeon, CEO of KPC, was all smiles as he walked into Minseok’s office. He was dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit, his blonde hair cut at just the right length to be stylish but appropriate for an office setting. Junmyeon and his dazzling white smile, easy words, and business know-how was the perfect man to run this particular corporation. He never asked about where certain money came from and he didn’t hesitate to put his all into his job even if he had his suspicions on the owner’s activities. He had a business degree from one of the best universities in the country and a sharp wit. So why in the hell had he shared some of the financials with Chanyeol?

“Before you go off on me, they were fake numbers.” Junmyeon knew his shit.

“Oh thank god. The last thing I need is for Chanyeol to start dabbling in the company more than he is already attempting to.” Minseok huffed a sigh of relief. 

“But that isn’t why I am here.” Junmyeon took a seat. “The annual charity event is coming up soon, I need you to confirm the guest list, we had a few requests for additional attendees.”

The KPC charity gala was another perfectly crafted element of his life, of his family’s life. Once a year they rented out a ballroom at the most expensive hotel in the city and charged per plate, all proceeds going to a list of charities that Minseok’s father had chosen. It was further insurance to say “look at how nice the Kim family is, look at how benevolent they are, who could suspect them of anything”.

“Email it to me.” Minseok would have Changmin go through it later, he knew who to take off the list. 

“Will do.” Junmyeon hesitated for a second. “Are you…is everything alright? I mean are you alright?”

“Yes.” Minseok didn’t mean to sound so angry, but he did. 

“Good. Take care, Minseok.” Junmyeon sounded deflated and perhaps a little afraid. 

Once Junmyeon was gone Minseok closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He was becoming more like his father with each passing day. He knew it.

  
  
  


“Tomorrow?!” Luhan stared at the plane ticket. “I can’t fucking leave tomorrow!”

“Why?” Zhi Xiang crossed his arms. 

“Lu, it is important that you go soon.” Yixing was pleading with him.

Luhan stared at the white and blue ticket, searching his mind for a reason. But there was none. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t leave tomorrow. He had nothing here other than Zhi Xiang and Yixing and they were telling him to go. Yet it seemed so soon, so rushed. He didn’t even have clothes or a phone or any idea of how to build trust with a bunch of Korean’s who lived on the wrong side of the law. 

“We will get your stuff ready. You don’t need to do anything other than discuss the details we talked about, the weight, the timing, that sort of thing. Seriously all you need to do is be yourself, charm them. Make them see that we aren’t going to fuck them over.” Zhi Xiang was frustrated with his reluctance, Luhan could sense it. 

“If you need anything from us you can call. I already bought a few secured phones for you,” Yixing attempted to reassure him. 

His continued reluctance made Yixing speak of something that Luhan hadn’t expected. “Do you want to – Lu I can take you to see your Mom’s grave if you want.”

Luhan tensed. No, he didn’t want it. He wanted to forget, to push away the pain of her last days and the fact he wasn’t there. He wasn’t ready yet, to face that wound that he could not yet acknowledge. Oddly enough the thought had him grabbing the tickets out of Yixing’s hand. “What time does my flight leave?”

  
  


Minseok wiped his hands on his pants, the red streaks standing out against the light grey of his pants. “Dump him off the pier.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Baekhyun approached the body on Minseok’s command. He picked the man up by his legs and began dragging him across the floor and towards the warehouse door. A streak of red trailed after the lifeless man, smearing against the concrete floor. 

“So I guess we need to reconsider that contract thing.” Changmin joked. Minseok was not in the mood for jokes. After shoving a knife into Mr. Lee’s throat he wasn’t in the mood for much. 

“He should have fucking paid.” Minseok continued wiping his hands. The air was thick with the smell of salt water, the sounds of lapping water hitting the wharf a dull backtrack. Minseok gave up trying to get the blood completely off his hands. “Qī diǎn shí fēn is sending someone tomorrow. I need you go to pick them up at the airport.” 

“Already planned on it.” Changmin pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Minseok. “Where should I take him?”

Minseok paused for a moment. “Bring him here. Make sure the guys don’t clean the blood off the floor.”

Changmin laughed loudly, Minseok smiled. “I should make sure they understand what they are getting themselves into.”

#  Chapter 3

Luhan departed the plane with his black leather carry on slung over his shoulder and the knowledge he needed to retrieve his checked bag. He had no idea what was in either bag, he hadn’t packed them. Yixing had dropped him off at the airport with the luggage and muttered something about all the essentials. 

Luhan was a bit afraid to find out what Yixing had packed so he didn’t bother to look. His only hint of what might be inside was “If they ask for anything right away, it is in your checked bag.” Luhan hoped that didn’t mean drugs. He prayed that didn’t mean drugs. But he trusted Yixing so he didn’t protest. Once he was in the air he figured that whatever it was hadn’t caused a problem getting through security so he must be in the clear. 

He was dressed in a suit, something else Yixing had also taken charge of. “You are representing us, Ge, you need to look good.” Luhan had never owned a suit before and he didn’t regret that fact. It was uncomfortable. The first thing he did once Yixing was out of sight was to loosen the tie and unbutton the first button. 

The Busan airport wasn’t as busy as Beijing’s but it wasn’t exactly a quiet place either. Luhan was still getting used to being in crowds so even amidst a lesser form of chaos he was sweating. Baggage claim. Baggage claim. He repeated the two words over and over in his head until he found the right place. 

Once he had his suitcase in hand his next mantra was ‘look for a sign’, ‘look for a sign’. Zhi Xiang had said someone would be waiting to pick him up. He wondered who a gang would send to the airport, the image of a fat middle aged Korean man in a tracksuit flitted across his mind. 

The second time he scanned the crowd, he spotted the sign with his name spelled out in neatly written Chinese characters The man holding it was far from the mental image he had conjured. This guy looked like a lawyer. 

“I am Luhan.” He thought that even this simple sentence sounded choppy. It had been a long time since he had any reason to speak Korean. Suddenly he was regretting not practicing over the last day. 

“I can take that.” The man was tall and neatly groomed, impeccably dressed. Luhan let the suitcase go without a protest. “Welcome to Korea, Mr. Lu.”

“Ah, thank you.” Luhan remembered he had forgotten to bow. Seohyun had taught him to bow and he had just messed it up. He half bowed as they walked hoping he had rectified any potential misstep. 

“My name is Shim Changmin. I will take you to meet Mr. Kim.”

Mr. Kim. Luhan hadn’t any idea of who was who in the gang, Zhi Xiang giving him little to no information. Luhan wondered if that is because Zhi Xiang didn’t know either. He had mentioned a Kim something, also Changmin. At least the names matched the information that Luhan did have. 

They didn’t converse on the way to the car, Luhan was grateful for the silence. He was very self-conscious of his Korean now that he was among native speakers, the least had to speak the better. 

Luhan got in the back seat of the black car and buckled up. “The drive will be about an hour,” Changmin explained. 

An hour. Luhan stared out the window, watching as the airport faded off into the distance, his destination unknown.

  
  


Minseok had a mind to keep those witnessing the meeting to a minimum. It was bad enough every person in the organization seemed to know about it (no doubt Chanyeol was to blame). He planned on introducing the man to the others slowly, if he did at all. For now it would be the talk of doing business, not an actual business partnership. No reason to parade the Chinese man around, especially not in front of some of those who worked for him. 

Minseok had given Baekhyun the order to get the other guys out of the vicinity of the buildings near the pier. It wasn’t supposed to be a big task, usually the guys were only there if they had a shipment going out (which they didn’t that day). 

The only people he wanted there – and therefore expected to see - were Changmin and Tao – with a few other bodyguards around the perimeter just in case. When Minseok arrived at the wharf he felt his anger well. Baekhyun was standing outside the building talking to Song Dong Il. Someone else was there too but Minseok couldn’t make out who it was. 

Song Dong Il was one of the seasoned veteran of the organization .He had been of the mob since its creation decades ago, back when there used to be five men pulling the strings of Daseos Seong Pa, the Five Stars Mob. Eventually five melded into one, Minseok’s father, and through it all Dong Il remained. He was a mainstay, a senior, a man who the younger guys looked up to. He also happened to be someone who was giving Minseok a hell of a hard time lately.

Changmin had been the one to discover Song Dong Il’s theft of funds, a clever little racket where he was pocketing money out of the construction bids he managed for Daseos Seong Pa. Once Minseok started paying more attention to the man he found out about his gambling problem, his reason to steal. If he had caught any one of the young guys stealing from him he probably would have had them shot. But this was Dong Il. This was different. He was still debating what to do with him. 

Minseok parked his car, grabbed one of his phones, and decided to go see what kept the three from leaving – going against his strict instructions. He heard heated words as he approached. Baekhyun was the first to notice him and shot him a helpless look. 

“Mind explaining what you guys are doing here?” Minseok narrowed his eyes at the gangsters. The third man turned around. It was Hyuseung, Dong Il’s son-in law.

“Mind explaining why in the fuck you didn’t tell any of us about the Chinese deal?” Dong Il’s face was bright red, he looked furious. 

“It isn’t a deal yet. I didn’t know I had to tell you about everything in the pipeline.” Minseok shrugged. 

“Your father would have.” Dong Il knew that Minseok was aware of his thievery. He knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened. Yet he was being difficult. Minseok couldn’t believe someone could be so stupid, especially someone who had survived in the criminal world for a few decades. 

“I am not my father, if you haven’t noticed.” Minseok was already done with the conversation. “Now get out of here.”

“We aren’t the only ones who think this is wrong, keeping this secret.” Hyuseung, the scrawny gangster, didn’t sound angry as much as he sounded scared. Minseok was surprised he had the guts to speak up, his father in law must have really done a number on him. 

“I haven’t heard that. Nice to know,” Minseok answered casually.

Hyuseung apparently wasn’t as foolish as Dong Il, even if he had been stupid enough to go against Minseok’s orders and stay. He gestured for Dong Il to leave, thankfully the old man did. Baekhyun gave a short apology as he scurried off after them, no doubt terrified that Minseok was going to scream at him for messing up his order. 

Minseok pushed the subordination out of his mind as he walked to the warehouse. He would have to deal with Dong Il soon, but now was not the time. 

As he entered the warehouse he found that at least one of his instructions had been followed, the blood streak from the night before hadn’t been cleaned up. He carefully stepped over it. The night prior he had ended up with enough of Mr. Lee’s blood on him, he wasn’t eager for a repeat. 

Minseok walked into the small office, a room that could be mistaken for any other shipping logistics outpost in a hundred different warehouses along the port. It was the same, most of the time, unless more lucrative goods were being loaded onto one of KPC’s cargo ships. He took a seat at the desk and checked his watch. Time to wait. 

  
  
  


Luhan had looked up Busan the night before. He read about beaches and temples and a whole lot of other things that didn’t matter. He wasn’t on vacation. As the black sedan rolled through the streets and neared the port, the scenery turned more industrial. Luhan found that the city had a gritty side, not unlike the parts of Beijing he used to call home. Still it was a foreign country, a place that he had never been. And he was here with a daunting task. 

There were docks, warehouses, and shipping vessels every which way Luhan looked. Trucks pulled away from the dock area, customs vans drove past, and the sound of ship horns could be heard at regular intervals. Busan was a port city, the busiest shipping hub in Korea. Luhan knew this but the sheer hustle and bustle he witnessed as they drove along the port area was still impressive. 

“The boss is waiting in the office,” Changmin explained as he pulled up near a warehouse. “Leave your suitcases in the car.”

Luhan nodded, wordlessly following the man towards the building. The salty sea air was strange, the way it lingered on his tongue with every inhale. Luhan had never spent time by the ocean, his entire existence had been the slums of Beijing and a prison. 

The large metal door of the warehouse was open, a loading point for shipping cargo. Luhan braced his shoulders. Look confident, look certain, and don’t be afraid. He succeeded up until he saw the pool of blood, the red smear along the floor, and realized Changmin had completely ignored it. Luhan stopped for a second and stared. No, this is what they wanted. He stepped over it like it was nothing.

Changmin held the office door open for him, his expression unreadable. Was he surprised Luhan hadn’t said anything about the blood? If he was he didn’t show it. 

Luhan stepped inside the small room, ready to face Mr. Kim.  _ Hopefully _ face Mr. Kim. He might have put up a front but inside he was wondering if the gangster was there at all. Maybe they would just kill him. 

“Luhan?” He was disarming. Completely disarming and that scared Luhan more than a big, hulking tattooed ruffian would have. Smaller in stature, big eyes, full cheeks, and a crooked smile. Hair cut short but not too short, wearing a grey suit and tie. Handsome and young and nothing like what Luhan had thought he might look like. And he stood, hand out in greeting. 

“Hello” Luhan bowed before extending his hand and shaking the other man’s. He had a firm grip and never broke eye contact. “Mr. Kim, I presume?”

“Kim Minseok. You can call me Minseok.” Minseok gestured towards an office chair. “Please sit.”

Luhan did as he was told. It was taking an enormous amount of mental effort to look calm and confident. 

“How was your flight?” Minseok sat opposite him, a few feet away. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands together. Polite. Very polite.

“Ah, good.” Luhan wondered if Minseok could understand his words with his heavy Beijing accent. 

“Great. Sorry for the mess, I had something to attend to last night.” Minseok gestured lazily towards the door, clearly indicating the blood that Luhan had stepped over.

“No problem.” Luhan feigned a smile. 

“I don’t think we have too much to discuss right away, Luhan. We both know what offer is on the table and what we stand to benefit from it.” Minseok leaned forward. “There is no point working out further details before I know I can trust you. I don’t deal with people I can’t trust, Luhan.”

The way Minseok stared into his eyes was so intense it made him want to squirm and back away, but he couldn’t. The polite and disarming man’s aura had shifted so suddenly Luhan was taken aback. “Neither do we.” Luhan did the opposite of what his instincts told him to do. He leaned forward and stared back, his gaze unwavering. He couldn’t appear weak, he wouldn’t appear weak. 

Minseok chuckled. “So how do gain each other’s trust?” 

“I have something in my luggage that might be of interest to you.” Luhan followed Yixing’s instructions.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is in the car.” Luhan was amazed that his voice didn’t crack, that his eyes didn’t move away from Minseok’s face, that he hadn’t doubled over and thrown up from the attack on his nerves. 

“Changmin, can you bring Luhan’s luggage, please?” Minseok called out to the man who waited by the door. He was gone as soon as Minseok had issued the instructions.

“Your Korean is very good,” Minseok remarked.

Luhan thought it as a lie but he still told him thanks. 

“How did you learn?” 

“I had a Korean friend growing up.” Luhan explained, hating how he would always remember  _ her _ when anyone asked him the question. 

“Hm. I see. That makes sense. Your friend was a good teacher.” The corner of Minseok’s lips had a tendency to turn up, not quite a smile but almost a sneer. Luhan found it an odd expression, a bit disorienting in its ambiguity. 

Changmin returned with the luggage, setting the checked bag up on the desk and stepping away. Luhan had no idea what he was looking for since he hadn’t asked Yixing for details, he only hoped it would be obvious. He unlocked and unzipped the bag, trying to keep his hands from shaking. When he opened the flap he stifled a gasp. Money. There was a lot of money. How in the hell it had gotten past customs was beyond him.

“A sign of our trust.” Luhan stepped away from the suitcase. Minseok approached. He grabbed one of the stacks of Yuan and examined it. 

“It would seem that you believe trust is an expensive thing to gain.” Minseok dropped the stack of bills. “A nice present, but not nearly enough. Besides, if I take the money how do you know you can trust me?”

Luhan titled his head to the side. “Then what do you propose?”

“I arrange a meeting with my Japanese contacts as a sign of good faith. You do the same with whoever is supplying your product. If we trust each other enough to share our contacts then we can trust each other enough to do business.”

Luhan didn’t like the sound of a meeting with the suppliers, plus he couldn’t authorize that. He didn’t even know who supplied the drugs. Zhi Xiang would have to give the okay. “An interesting proposition. I need to discuss this with the others.”

“Take your time. Just know that each day that passes is another opportunity for someone else to come along with a better deal.” Minseok closed the suitcase and zipped it. “Changmin will take you to where you will be staying. If you agree to my proposal tell Changmin and he will contact me.”

It was the sign to leave. Changmin stepped inside the office. “This way, Mr. Lu.”

“We will be in touch.” Luhan bowed slightly, trying not to overdo it. Minseok flashed another half-smile, half sneer, and bowed in turn. 

It was their first meeting and Luhan had survived. Barely, but he had.

  
  
  
  


“Clever of them to send a nobody.” Minseok knocked back his second glass of whiskey. He was relaxing on the sofa in his apartment, Mr. Whiskers glued to his side. “The one guy we don’t have a file on.”

“It was a smart move,” Changmin agreed. “I have some of the guys working on it now, I am sure we will know his blood type, first grade crush, and dirtiest darkest secret in a few hours.”

Minseok grunted. He had been impressed with Luhan, it made him wonder just how much of a nobody he really was. Since the deal with Qī diǎn shí fēn had been proposed Changmin had anyone connected with the gang subject to a background check – experience told Minseok it was best to know those you did business with. Luhan hadn’t been on his radar at all. It was a minor road bump because as Changmin promised they would know it all soon enough. Employing some of the best dealers in information in the country had its benefits.

“Has he contacted Zhi Xiang?” Luhan was staying in an apartment that was hand selected by some of Minseok’s security guys. It was rigged with cameras and microphones so they could watch his every move. 

“Yeah, called him as soon as he was alone. Sounds like there is hesitation about arranging a meeting with their supplier.”

“Of course there is, they aren’t stupid.” Minseok would never agree if someone had asked the same of him. He was hoping that the Chinese would go through with it because they were desperate for the amount of money this deal would bring them, pushing the risk aside. 

Minseok’s father had been working this angle for a couple months before his death. Qī diǎn shí fēn had been identified as the most favorable outfit to target, small enough to ensure that they weren’t in allegiance with some of the bigger mobs, but large enough to have the right connections to drug sources. Minseok’s father had brainstormed the idea, the concept, and now it was up to Minseok to execute it. 

What Minseok needed now was the supplier, he could give a lesser shit about the small time Chinese outfit. Once he had a way to buy cheap direct from the person making the drugs he was planning on cutting the Chinese out completely. They just had to lead him to the source.

“What do we do with him until the deal is made?” 

“Let him sit tomorrow. They need to feel the pressure.” Minseok swirled the contents of his glass. “And I need to know who in the hell Luhan really is.”

#  Chapter 4

Luhan didn’t sleep, he couldn’t. He had spent ten years being watched, he knew the feeling. The apartment that Changmin had dropped him off at was nice. Comfortable. Upscale. And bugged in every way possible, Luhan was sure of it. 

He pretended to sleep so that they wouldn’t think he was nervous, he hoped he succeeded. But there was no way he could fall into slumber with the way he was feeling, anxious, paranoid, and lost.

He had called Zhi Xiang as soon as he was alone. He knew he wasn’t really alone but he the call had to be made nonetheless. He used one of the phones that Yixing had given him, deemed a secure way to contact them. 

Zhi Xiang had balked at the idea of throwing their supplier into the deal. ‘That clever bastard, asking for us to oust the only thing that lets us make this deal in the first place’ were his exact words. Luhan was instructed to say nothing on the deal other than it was under review - until Zi Xiang told him otherwise. Luhan knew that meant his old friend was coming up with a counter proposal. 

The long hours that Luhan lay with his eyes closed allowed his mind to wander to places he didn’t want his mind to go. To ten years ago when he had trusted someone and she had sent him away, shattering his illusions of an unbreakable bond. He hated her more than he hated anyone else in this world and that hatred was so all consuming he tried to hide from it. 

When the sun started to rise he decided he had enough pretending and got up. He had checked the fridge the day before and knew it was well stocked. After a clumsy attempt at making breakfast he settled in for the unknown. Would Minseok drop by? No, probably not. Would Changmin? Perhaps. The only thing Luhan had to do was wait. 

  
  
  


Dong Il lived with his wife and a yippy little white dog that Minseok detested. When Minseok showed up at his doorstep, Changmin in tow, Dong Il shooed the wife and the dog away. He had been in the business long enough to know when a visit wasn’t for socializing.

Minseok took a seat at the kitchen table, turned down the offer of coffee, and carefully delivered his decision. “You are going to step down. I won’t tell the others about your theft out of respect for my father, but that is as nice as I get. If I catch you sticking your nose into anything related to Daseos Seong Pa again you are dead.”

Dong Il scoffed at the decision. “You aren’t going to kill me, you aren’t going to tell anyone, and you want me to go quietly?”

Minseok nodded. “I think that is more than fair.”

“Did Chanyeol agree to this?” Dong Il asked.

“I fail to see why he would need to. Now if you will excuse me.” Minseok had said his peace. Dong Il let him go. He didn’t beg or plead his case. He seemed to accept it. Finally something went right. 

“He makes me nervous.” Changmin furrowed his brow, making eye contact with Minseok through the rear view mirror. 

“I think he is just happy I didn’t put a bullet in him.” Minseok didn’t want to entertain any alternatives. His phone buzzed. Pulling it out of his suit coat he saw that Luhan’s file had come in. He opened the attachment and began reading. 

“Changmin, you are never going to believe it.” Minseok wanted to laugh. In a million years he would never have thought…

  
  
  


Luhan answered the phone on the second ring. “Hey.”

“You surviving?”

“Yixing!” Luhan was happy to hear his voice. 

“Zhi Xiang wanted me to relay a message. He wants you to ask the Koreans to go first, introduce you to the Japanese before we go forward setting a meeting up with our supplier. Can you do that?”

“Uh, yeah, I can tell them.” Luhan hated being in the middle like this. 

“Great. Hang in there. I am sure you will be home before you know it.”

Luhan wanted to ask Yixing how he was, make small talk, just have someone to talk to besides himself – but the phone went dead. Common sense told him it wasn’t the time to be having lengthy phone conversations, yet his boredom was getting the better of him. 

Now he had to figure out how to contact Changmin and get the message to Minseok, hopefully resulting in the deal moving along. Changmin had said he would be in touch but he hadn’t specified if that meant he would drop by or what.

Luhan spent the next hour in front of the television, watching a daytime drama. He chalked it up to foreign language practice, making sure he could still understand everything that was being said. He didn’t have a problem deciphering the dialogue which gave him a small boost of confidence. 

When the front door to the apartment opened, Luhan clicked off the television in a flurry. He wasn’t really sure why he had even done it, watching daytime dramas might indicate poor taste but it wasn’t like anyone could hate him for it. He stood up and walked towards the entryway, catching himself lest he look too eager. He was supposed to be the confident face of a gang, not a bored ex-convict.

“Hello.” 

Luhan hadn’t met this man before. He was tall with dark brown hair and a deep voice. He smiled widely and extended his hand. Luhan stared at it, unsure if he should take it or not. 

“I am Kim Chanyeol, Minseok’s brother. Luhan, right?”

Luhan shook Chanyeol’s hand. “Yes. Nice to meet you.”

“My brother set you up in a nice place, surprising for him.” Chanyeol started to wander around the apartment, checking out the view and randomly opening cupboards and drawers. “I bet you have been stuck in here all night and most of today, huh?”

“Yes.” Luhan watched the stranger with mild curiosity. 

“Good thing I am here then. Time to get you out to meet the others!” Chanyeol left a cupboard door hanging open as he shifted gears, his excitement at ‘getting Luhan out’ was a bit overwhelming. “Ah, but you might want to put a jacket on. It is a little cold.”

Luhan went to the bedroom to grab his suitcoat. After handing his checked bag over to Minseok the day before, he had felt a bit panicked at the thought Yixing hadn’t sent enough clothes. Thankfully his carry-on bag was well stocked – no wonder it was so heavy. 

Luhan followed Chanyeol out of the apartment and to a waiting car.

“Take us to the club.” Chanyeol gave the order to the driver.

Luhan wondered why they were going to a club in the middle of the day – and what kind of club it was. He didn’t ask, however. Instead he stared out the window, getting his second look at the city of Busan.

  
  


Minseok was in a meeting with Junmyeon and a couple of shareholders when Changmin sent him the message. 

_ Chanyeol took Luhan out of the apartment. They are at the Kitty’s right now. _

Minseok gritted his teeth and went back to talking business with the others. He couldn’t rush out, not when they were talking about last quarter’s earnings with two of their most important investors. He would need to stay, but the second the meeting was over he had every intention of hunting Chanyeol down and throwing him through a plate glass window.

“If you want to have some fun, “Chanyeol grinned, “This is the place.”

Luhan had never been to a hostess club but he had read about them. He was one hundred percent certain he was now standing in front of one – the name Kitty-a-go-go spelled out in neon pink letters over the door. 

Chanyeol hooked an arm around Luhan’s shoulder and dragged him through the doorway. “I am sure the boys are probably already here. Never can resist when I say I am paying.”

They were greeted by a middle aged woman who Luhan had to admit was visually stunning. Long black hair, slim, and dressed fashionably she could easily be mistaken for years younger – if it wasn’t for the wrinkles that flashed when she smiled at Chanyeol. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

“So Ra, how are you?”

“Better now that you are here.” They exchanged pecks on the cheek and a few whispers, Luhan hearing his name among the hushed tones. 

“Right this way, you already have a room.”

The private room they were led to was occupied by half a dozen younger guys and almost twice as many women. Chanyeol made a scene of greeting everyone when they entered, leaving Luhan to hang back and observe.

“This is our new best friend from China, Luhan,” Is how he was introduced. He greeted the men one by one as they were introduced, giving each a polite nod of the head.

There was Sehun, who caused Luhan to wonder how young Daseos Seong Pa recruited, he looked barely out of highschool. Tall, long legs, and a perma-smirk of amusement seemed to be his calling card. He met Hyuseung next, a guy who was scrawny, looked slightly bored by the introduction, and wore his hair so it covered half his face. Yoo Changhyun, who apparently was called Ricky, was as loud as Hyuseung was quiet. Kim Kibum seemed resolved to be louder than Ricky if his greeting was anything to judge by, Luhan mentally recoiling from the introduction. The other two men were definitely twins, perhaps not identical but close enough. “Choa and Way, don’t get on their bad side,” is how Chanyeol introduced them. 

“What do you normally drink?” Chanyeol was playing the host well, gesturing for Luhan to sit while taking care of anything he might need. It seemed that as cold and calculating as Minseok was, Chanyeol was warm and inviting. 

“Beer.” Luhan was not keen on getting hammered. 

One of the girls returned with a beer, her eyes lingering on Luhan a bit too long, causing him to look away. 

Now that Luhan had a drink Chanyeol turned his attention elsewhere. He pulled one of the women onto his lap and began whispering into her ear. She giggled, her laughter shrill and piercing. 

“You arrived yesterday?” Sehun tried to engage Luhan in conversation. 

“Yes.”

“I am guessing Minseok hyung hasn’t brought you anywhere nearly as entertaining as this. Am I right?”

Luhan wasn’t sure that Kitty-a-go-go was his idea of a good time so he handled the question by remarking, “They are very different. The brothers, I mean.”

Luhan probably wouldn’t have made the observation if the thought Chanyeol was listening, he didn’t know the man enough to predict how he would react to such a statement. But Chanyeol was most certainly not listening, his attention captured fully by the blonde sitting on his lap. 

“Half-brothers,” Sehun clarified. “Minseok hyung has never been the type of guy to let lose.”

Luhan had guessed as much. He might have been locked up for a decade but back in the day he used to pride himself in his ability to read people, even after only spending a short amount of time with them. 

“Will Changmin be stopping by?” Luhan asked, partially to keep the conversation going and partially because he had a burning need to relay Zhi Xiang’s message. 

Sehun snorted. “Not likely. He is as boring as his boss and the puppy never strays far from his master.”

“Just drink them!” Kibum shouted.

Sehun turned his attention to Ricky, who was accepting a dare from Kibum to take seven shots of an unidentified liquor. As he threw them back Luhan spied a gun holstered on Ricky’s side. They were probably all carrying one, he realized.

“Now Luhan Hyung!” Sehun insisted. “You are new in town, show us what you are made of!”

Luhan tried to decline but Sehun wouldn’t hear of it, pretty soon Chanyeol and the others jumped in and Luhan felt trapped. He took the shots because he didn’t see any other course of action. The burn of the liquor made him feel like throwing up. 

The heavy drinking continued, Luhan hanging back as much as he could. He was grateful that the other guys fell into drunkenness quicker than he did. A couple hours after taking his first shots he was buzzed but the others were stumbling around and slurring their words

Luhan remained quiet for the most part as the dinking continued. He laughed when the others did and answered when they directed questions his way, but he attempted to be concise and to the point, not rambling on if he didn’t have to. He kept reminding himself that he wasn’t among friends, but potential business associates. He should be nice but not too nice.

As Chanyeol started demanding everyone sing karaoke one of the women sat down next to Luhan. Without a word she placed her hand on his thigh and began teasing her finger up and down his leg. He tensed, the feeling of having someone touching him so intimately foreign to him. He had spent ten years without sex, without being touched.

She made eye contact and smiled when Luhan chanced a glance at her. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” she whispered. 

Luhan caught a whiff of her perfume as she leaned in. He was considering if he took her up on the offer – would it be wrong? Would it be a misstep? He was debating leaving with her when someone entered the room, the door clicking open and closed. He didn’t look to see who it was, the hostesses had been coming and going the entire time they were there. 

“Hyung! Here to join the party?”

Luhan tore his eyes away from the woman at his side to see Minseok standing in the doorway. He was looking at Luhan for whatever reason, a curious expression on his face.

“Sorry, here on business. I came to fetch my Chinese friend.”

The woman who had been so close moved away.

“Luhan.” Minseok didn’t say anything but his name. In some small way Luhan was happy Minseok had arrived before he had done something he might regret. He had also been battling an intense desire to leave the smoky booze filled room – the fear that Chanyeol wanted to stay all night wearing on him. 

“Please excuse me.” Luhan bowed. His departure was filled with groans from the others, including loud protests from Chanyeol. 

“Changmin has the car waiting outside. I shall be out in a minute, I need to discuss something with Chanyeol first,” Minseok instructed as he hung back.

Luhan started towards the car, thankful he now had the opportunity to deliver Zhi Xiang’s message.

  
  


Chanyeol attempted a punch but in his inebriated state his actions threw him off balance, his body crashing into the table instead. A few liquor bottles broke, others rolled off the table and spilled strong smelling liquid on the floor. 

Minseok stared at his younger brother in amusement. “You are beating yourself up, how nice of you.”

“Fuck you.” Chanyeol spat. Blood was running down his arm from where a shard of a broken bottle had lodged into his skin. 

The other occupants of the room were long gone, having wisely scattered when Minseok announced he needed to have a talk with Chanyeol.

“Who told you where he was staying?”

“You really think everyone is your faithful little servant, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t, but I don’t expect my men to tell someone who our own father wanted out any inside information.” 

Chanyeol lunged at Minseok, but his unsteady gait made it easy enough for Minseok to step aside. The dodge sent Chanyeol on a course into the wall, accompanied by a loud thud and a string of curse words. 

“That’s because you influenced him.” Chanyeol wiped his hand across his face, leaving a smear of blood. “You made him think badly of me.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” Their father was never influenced by anyone, least of all his children. He had formed his opinion of Chanyeol based on the boy’s own actions, it had nothing to do with Minseok’s opinion.

“I had three airlines tickets sent to your house, for the Maldives. Flight leaves in the morning. Take your wife and your daughter and get out of town for a few weeks.”

“So you can make this deal without me?!”

“No, so you don’t fuck it all up until there is no deal.” Minseok picked up a discarded bar rag and tossed it in Chanyeol’s direction. “Enjoy your trip.”

  
  
  


Luhan relayed Zhi Xiang’s message carefully. Even if his buzz was quickly dying he didn’t want to misspeak. 

“I can arrange a meeting soon.” Minseok agreed to it readily. They fell into silence, Minseok looking at his phone as Luhan returned to his new favorite hobby, watching the city of Busan out a car window.

“Did you have fun?”

Luhan wasn’t sure how to answer that. Minseok was still staring at his phone.

“That good, huh?” Minseok chuckled.

Luhan dared to crack a small smile. 

#  Chapter 5

Minseok had started his day off well. Changmin confirmed that Chanyeol and his family had gotten on the plane, the tickets redeemed. With Chanyeol’s meddling no longer an issue he could foresee actually getting something done with his plan sooner rather than later. 

His Japanese contact had agreed to a meeting later that night, no questions asked. It was such a simple request that would gain Qī diǎn shí fēn very little in terms of workable knowledge, bargaining power, or solid connections. The Japanese weren’t going to betray Minseok, not when they had already cut a sizable and very lucrative deal with him. The only people in the entire deal who would end up being betrayed were Qī diǎn shí fēn. As soon as Minseok had access to their supplier he doubted it would be more than a day before he won them away from the small time Beijing outfit and onto his payroll. 

For a brief second Minseok thought about Luhan. What should he do with him once everything was done? Kill him? Simple cut him off and let him be? Or could he use Luhan’s past for his own gain, now that he knew? There were options to weigh. 

Luhan managed to sleep a few hours despite being under constant surveillance. His rest was fitful as he dreamed of people from the past. Yixing, Zhi Xiang, and Seohyun. He hated when she appeared in his dreams, his emotions twisted in his slumber as much as they had been in real life. She had used him, torn his life away from him, and never given him a second thought. To have her flitting through his dreams was torture. If he could erase her from his life forever, any memory of her gone, he would. 

After getting a minimal amount of sleep he toiled about the apartment, trying to stay occupied. Neither Yixing or Zhi Xiang called him, the only communication he received all day was via the landline in the apartment. It was Changmin.

“Mr. Kim has arranged a meeting for tonight. His attendance is required at an event prior to the meeting, he welcomes you to attend alongside him.”

“Yes, that will be fine.” Luhan regretted agreeing so readily, he probably should have asked what sort of event. His apprehension became worse when Changmin asked for his suit size and explained that a tuxedo would be delivered to the apartment. A driver would pick him up at seven.

“What sort of event is it?” Luhan asked.

“The annual charity gala for KPC, Mr. Kim’s organization.”

Great, a charity event. Luhan resigned himself to his fate.

  
  
  
  
  


Minseok made the rounds, dishing out polite greetings and words of gratitude to those who filtered into the ballroom. The annual event always had a huge turnout, drawing in KPC business associates, local celebrities, and the fashionable do-gooder crowd from Seoul. An invitation was rarely turned down even if the donation cost was two million won a plate. 

It was a black tie affair, a formal event that was held at the ritziest hotel in Busan. Since his father had passed away it was now up to Minseok to act as the host, socializing with those who attended. Minseok wasn’t a conversationalist by nature, so the entire event was a headache that he could live without. Unfortunately he could not live without it, the gala was an important publicity stunt for his family. 

He was grateful that Changmin and Junmyeon stayed close to him, interjecting when conversations fell flat, always knowing exactly the right thing to say. He could probably survive if both men didn’t leave his side. Probably. Maybe. 

The cocktail hour was nearing conclusion when Changmin whispered in Minseok’s ear. “Luhan is here.”

Minseok looked towards the entrance, spotting the Chinese man standing awkwardly with a wine glass in his hand. He had debated inviting Luhan to the event but in the end it made sense. The meeting later that night with Kame combined with the necessity Minseok stay at the charity event as long as possible had a way of making the situation unavoidable. He hadn’t wanted to send Changmin away to babysit Luhan, and he wasn’t keen on sending one of his men to go fetch the Chinese man (assuming Chanyeol hadn’t already told everyone where he was staying). He had decided it was best to send a hired driver to get him and bring him to the gala.

“Good evening.” Minseok greeted Luhan as warmly as he could muster. 

“Good evening.” 

“I will make the bold assumption you don’t know anyone here.”

“Ah, you would be correct.” Luhan seemed to relax a bit.

“I won’t leave you to the wolves then. You are welcome to follow me.”

Luhan took him up on the offer, hanging behind him as he moved from one group to the next. Minseok introduced Luhan when he felt it was appropriate, keeping the details short (he is my friend from china) and changing the subject immediately so no one would ask questions. 

Luhan didn’t interject himself into conversation, preferring to be as quiet as Minseok wished he himself could be. As the cocktail hour wound to a close, Minseok began eyeing the table where his name card sat. He desperately wanted to sit down. 

“Uncle!”

Minseok swallowed the expletive that was about to leave his mouth. Chanyeol, his wife on his arm, walked a few feet behind their excited daughter. Minseok was pissed.

  
  
  
  


Luhan heard a child and immediately looked. He hadn’t seen any other children at the event so he had assumed it was a kids-free event. 

A smiling little girl, probably seven or eight, rushed towards Minseok. “Uncle!”

Minseok swept the girl up in his arms and planted a kiss on her temple. Luhan had never expected him to be so gentle with children, it was surprising.

“Oppa, sorry we are late.”

Luhan stilled. That voice. He recognized the voice.

He watched in horror as Chanyeol approached Minseok, a woman on his arm. She reached forward and ruffled the girl’s hair. Luhan couldn’t move, couldn’t look away, and couldn’t react. Everything was frozen, except for her. Seohyun.

_ Ten years ago _

“Admit it, you are jealous!” Luhan nudged Yixing in the ribs. “Just say it.”

“Fuck off.” Yixing shot Luhan a glare. 

Luhan let the subject drop but he knew he was right. He knew his best friend better than anyone and said best friend was most definitely harboring a one sided crush on a guy several years older than him, one Zhi Xiang. Now that Zhi Xiang had a girlfriend Yixing’s moodiness had been off the charts. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” Luhan leaned back on his threadbare sofa, slinging his legs onto Yixing’s lap. Yixing pushed them away in annoyance. 

“Sleeping.”

Luhan snorted. “Boring.”

“Is Seohyun coming over?” Yixing made a move to get up.

Luhan sighed. “Don’t know.” He never knew, not anymore. Once it was a guarantee that Seohyun would stop by at some point, tagging along while Luhan and Yixing went out for drinks or just hanging around the apartment to watch television. They used to be inseparable, now she hardly ever contact them. 

It had started a few months back when Seohyun met a guy who had just moved into their neighborhood, some Korean man a decade older than her. Her mom knew him and from there it became her new fascination. He ran some kind of pawn shop, a seedy little place that no doubt was doing things other than receiving pawned merchandise. Luhan couldn’t fault him for being shady, he was running errands for a neighborhood gang himself. But still.

Luhan didn’t like him, but a huge part of his distrust of the man had to do with how much Seohyun liked him. She talked about him all the time, or at least whenever she managed to find time for her childhood friends – a rarity. 

Seohyun’s new favorite person was a constant hurt that Luhan tried to ignore. It was painful because he had spent the better part of his eighteen years on this earth under the impression that Seohyun was his soulmate, his future wife, and all that romantic nonsense. He could be called an idiot for being so assured of his place- had Seohyun not returned his feelings. But she had. 

Luhan had confessed on the eve of her seventeenth birthday, a stuttered mess of words delivered in the alley that ran by his apartment. She had told him she felt the same, but they needed to wait. “We are young, give me a few years. After all we have our whole lives.” That sweet smile that Luhan fell for time and time again sealed his agreement. He told himself it was a logical move, to wait. They were teenagers, best not to jump into anything. They had their whole lives. 

Yet he found the future he had believed in starting to slip away with each phone call she ignored, each time she said she would be by but never showed. It hurt, but Luhan never said anything. Never wanted to be pushy or make her uncomfortable. He held onto the fact she had said she felt the same way. 

But now she was a ghost in his life, busy chasing after an older man who gave Luhan the creeps. The wound was always open, Luhan trying to pretend in front of the others that it wasn’t something he was upset about. 

“If she stops by tell her I said hi.” Yixing picked up his jacket.

“I will. Have a goodnight.”

“You too.”

  
  


It was almost midnight when the pounding on Luhan’s apartment door jarred him from his sleep. He shared a tiny, cramped apartment with his mother – but she was out for the evening. It wasn’t much to look at, but most places in the slum weren’t any better. It was a rundown abode in the midle of a rundown community. 

“Luhan! Luhan open up!” It was Seohyun and she sounded distressed. Luhan jumped off the couch and threw the door open, the adrenaline starting to course through him at the sound of her distress. 

Seohyun was a mess. Her hair, which she had always made a point to keep neatly styled, was untamed. A smudge of dirt marred her left cheek and her eyes were wild and afraid. 

“What happened?!” Luhan reached for her but she backed out of his touch.

“Help me get this inside.” He looked down to see what she was struggling with, a large black duffle bag that sat at her feet. She was grunting, out of breath as she tried to pick up the bag and move it across the threshold. Luhan grabbed the bag out of her hands, setting it just inside the doorway. Seohyun stepped inside, still panting.

“Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Luhan was terrified.

“No, listen.” Her breathing was ragged, her words punctuated by sharp inhales of air, “I, I need” gasp “you to do something” gasp “for me. Can you”. She pointed at the bag, “Keep this. I don’t have time to explain.”

“Please, sit down.” Luhan attempted to guide her to the sofa but she wouldn’t budge.

“I have to go. Just…” Seohyun looked him in the eyes, “Thank you, Luhan.”

Luhan didn’t get to say anything, ask her why she was thankful, or find out what happened. She was darting out the door and down the alley before he could catch her. He completely forgot about the bag as his concern took over. He rushed outside attempted to run after her but she was gone, disappearing back into the night. 

Luhan staggered back to his apartment, a dark mood overtaking him as he realized how little he knew about the woman he loved. How little she told him. How pitiful it all was. He threw himself on the sofa, burying his head in the worn cushion. 

Five minutes after Seohyun had knocked on his door the police arrived. Luhan was slammed against the wall, a pair of cold metal handcuffs slapped on his wrists. He watched in horror as the forgotten black duffel bag was opened, bags and bags of drugs dumped out on the floor. 

It was a few days before Yixing told him, confirming what Seohyun herself had admitted to. 

“She said she couldn’t go to prison.” Yixing looked utterly disgusted. “She framed you. She’s gone now, left with that Korean guy.”

Luhan felt his world collapse, his mind dissolve into a despair he didn’t know was possible. The amount of drugs in the duffel bag would earn him the death penalty in China. When he found out what Seohyun had done he welcomed it. But his friends wouldn’t let him die, wouldn’t let him fade into nothingness. 

Zhi Xiang sold his motorcycle and anything of value he could find, Yixing did the same. They scrounged up enough money to bribe the judge to give Luhan a sentence that wasn’t death – ten years. He spent ten years in prison because of her, his hatred growing as each day passed. 

Ten years hating her, hoping she was dead. Ten years to find her wearing an expensive ball gown, hugging a child to her as she lived as Chanyeol’s wife. 

Ten years. That bitch.

He balled his fists so tightly he was sure he broke skin, his nails digging into his flesh as he saw red.

  
  
  


Minseok gritted his teeth. “What a pleasant surprise, I thought you were going on a trip.” God damn Chanyeol. He must have had someone redeem the airplane tickets in an attempt to make it seem like he had left. What was worse was that they were at the gala, Minseok couldn’t call him out on it. Couldn’t punch him or kick him or put a gun in his face. And Chanyeol knew as much. 

“We are going on a trip?” Young Ji jumped up and down, tugging at Chanyeol’s hand. “Where are we going papa?!”

“Uncle Minseok is just teasing you.” Chanyeol patted the child on the head. The girl pouted while Seohyun shot Chanyeol a questioning look. Clearly she hadn’t known of the tickets either. 

“Luhan, I didn’t know you were attending.” Chanyeol bypassed his angry brother and went straight for the Chinese man. 

Minseok stepped back and observed the situation. He saw the glimmer of recognition pass over Seohyun, her face turning pale as she locked eyes with Luhan. Minseok hadn’t wanted this to be where they met, if he had eventually decided they meet at all. 

He had discovered the Seohyun connection when he read Luhan’s file, but he hadn’t decided if or when he might use it. Chanyeol had not only seriously annoyed him by showing up at the gala but he had also destroyed any usefulness this piece of information possessed. Now Minseok had to worry about Luhan attacking his sister in law or flying back to China and calling off the deal. God damn Chanyeol.

“Luhan, this is my wife and my daughter.” Chanyeol was acting like the respectable family man, the second son of a family who lived for throwing such a wonderful event once a year. A nice person, not his true self.

Luhan’s expression was tight, unreadable. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Minseok was surprised. Seohyun uttered the greeting. He had never took his sister in law for the type of person who could withstand being so….brazenly cruel to someone she had wronged so horribly. She acted like she had never met him, but Minseok knew better. Luhan knew better. 

“Is that Mr. Yoo! I haven’t seen him in ages!” She could be brazen but she still wanted to retreat. She grabbed at Chanyeol’s arm, directing his attention to an elderly businessman across the room. “We should go say hello.”

“Ah, we should. Later.” Chanyeol took his wife’s hand in his left his daughter’s in his right. He led his little family away, none the wiser to what had just occurred. 

Minseok looked at Luhan, afraid for what he might do. The Chinese man stood still, not staring after Seohyun, his eyes cast towards the floor. Minseok could tell he was doing his best to choke back what he was feeling.

“We should take our seats, dinner will be served soon.”

“Yes, we should.” Luhan had more control than Minseok. He probably would have slapped Seohyun in the face the moment he saw her, or worse. Luhan earned his respect for that, Minseok liked people who were in control of their weaknesses. It was a valuable trait to possess. 

#  Chapter 6

Minseok watched Luhan throughout dinner, trying to be secretive as he stole glances at the Chinese man. He was waiting for Luhan to show a sign of emotion, to be angry or to perhaps even say he had to leave. Anything to show how upset he was. Yet he betrayed no sign of anger. 

Luhan stayed silent unless asked a question, but his silence didn’t come off as something born from emotional distress. No, he seemed oddly calm. Minseok supposed Seohyun and Chanyeol not being at their table helped things, giving Luhan a little bit of time to digest what had just happened. 

“We should leave soon.” Changmin sent him a message from across the table, trying to be discreet. 

The meeting with Kame would occur in an hour, they needed at least a half an hour to get across town to the club. Dinner had ended a while ago, the crowd was starting to diminish as Minseok stayed at his table, bidding farewell to those who came to thank him for the wonderful event. 

A few minutes later he excused himself, leaving Chanyeol to do the rest of the schmoozing. Served him right for going against Minseok and staying, fucking everything up as usual.

The drive to the club was a silent one, only the low sounds of the jazz station on the radio filtering through the car. Changmin was quiet as he drove, Tao (who had joined them outside the event) even seemed to sense something, spending his playing a game on his phone instead of his usual routine of rambling on about nothing. Luhan was silent, Minseok spent the time on his phone. It was tense in a strange way, one person knowing more than the other was aware of. 

“When you meet Kame, remember to bow.”

“What?” Luhan looked at Minseok in confusion.

“He is funny like that.”

  
  
  


Luhan was going through the motions, trailing after Minseok as he entered the nondescript building that sat near the sea. He was smothering everything that threatened to spring forth, everything that he wanted to scream, to shout, and to do. Seeing Seohyun alive and happy had ripped open the hatred, the wound that had never really healed to begin with. He had wanted to tell her what she had done, what she had done to him and his friends and how much he hated her. But somehow he held it in, kept a straight face, and carried on. 

When he got back to the apartment he would call Yixing or Zhi Xiang - had they known she was in Korea? No, he couldn’t believe if they had they would send him there. They were his friends, his brothers. They would likely be as surprised as he was. 

“Evening Yoseob.” Minseok gave a wave to the small statured bartender. The man leaned against the long mahogany bar, nodding in greeting.

The place was dark, leather club chairs and low lighting. “It is a private club, members only,” Minseok had explained when they arrived. 

They walked to a private room, a door at the far end of the bar barely noticeable among the dim surroundings. Tao and Changmin hung back, not entering with them.

“Kame.” Minseok bowed and thankfully Luhan recalled his instructions. He folded his body nearly in half before he even got a look at the man. 

“Minseok.” The man named Kame could have been taken straight from a film about the Yakuza. His hair was long and feathered, his outfit a three piece suit with pinstripes. He had a noticeable scar on his lip, in his left hand he held a cigar. “Long time no see.”

“Kame, this is Luhan, from China. The one I told you about.” 

Luhan bowed again, insurance he had executed the proper greeting. 

“Luhan. Ah, a pretty boy.” Much to Luhan’s horror the Japanese man approached him and with one swift movement cupped his cheek in his right hand. 

Luhan wanted to protest the ‘pretty’ tag but thought better of it. This was an important meeting, he couldn’t fuck it up. Kame backed off, taking a seat and gesturing for the others to do the same. Luhan took the chair next to Minseok, paying extra mind to sit up straight. 

The low buzzing of a cell phone had Minseok pulling out his phone and checking his messages. Kame took the opportunity to rake his eyes over Luhan, making it obvious he was checking him out. “You  _ are _ a pretty one.” 

Luhan shifted his weight. “Ah, thank you.”

“Do you smoke cigars?” 

“No.” Luhan waved his hand out in front of him. “I don’t, but thank you.”

“Polite too.” Kame took a puff. “How did someone like you get mixed up with us bad guys?”

Luhan found his tone condescending, an annoying exchange on top of his already frazzled nerves. 

“If you will please excuse me for a moment.” Minseok stood and bowed. Luhan thought he looked angry, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as he left the room.

“So Luhan, this deal of yours….” Kame held his cigar out. “Are you sure you don’t want a puff?”

“No, no, I am fine.” Luhan fidgeted. Now that they were alone his anxiety increased. 

“You should know how things like this go. I would expect that you realize business is business, right?”

Luhan nodded. 

“So say your business is perhaps…ah, these really are excellent cigars.” Another puff. A long drawn out action. “You are too pretty to be doing this.”

Kame leaned forward, a devilish smile playing on his lips. He reached his hand out, to ash or to touch Luhan the Chinese man was not sure. Luhan sprang from his seat, afraid to find out. 

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Wait, you shouldn’t g-!” The Japanese man called after him as he bolted for the door. He was two steps into the bar area when the first shot rang out

  
  


Changmin had sent Minseok a text to let him know that Chanyeol was outside. Minseok had debated telling him to take care of it, asking his secretary to make sure Chanyeol didn’t step foot in the place. When another message immediately followed saying Tao had let Chanyeol into the club, Minseok was on fire. He had a mind to physically eject Chanyeol from the premises – right after he shoved a gun in Tao’s face. 

Minseok stalked across the bar, straight towards Tao. The bodyguard stood near the door, next to Sehun and Chanyeol, a blank look on his face. 

Minseok never made it across the bar. A shot rang out, a bullet piercing his skin and lodging in his leg. As his leg gave out under him he caught sight of the pistol in Tao’s hand, the barrel still smoking. Tao had shot him. His bodyguard had shot him. 

Minseok fell to the floor, crying out as he landed on his stomach. The pain that shot up his leg was the most intense hurt he had ever experienced. The sharp sensation spread up his torso, he felt like he was being ripped in two. 

Minseok stared across the room, right into Tao’s eyes. Betrayed, he had been betrayed. He knew Tao would fire again, he could sense it. It was a desperate need to survive that had Minseok rolling towards the bar, moving just in time to dodge the second shot. 

He heard Changmin return fire, Sehun and Chanyeol pulling out their guns as they moved for cover behind the end of the bar. He had to move and fast. He gritted his teeth, operating on sheer adrenaline he vaulted over the bar. He landed on his wounded leg, a howl of pain escaping his lips as he collapsed. 

“Hyung! Why don’t you make this easy?!” Chanyeol was yelling for him, shouting as bullets whistled through the air. Changmin was shooting, Sehun and Chanyeol were shooting, and footsteps could be heard. More people were filtering into the club – Minseok didn’t doubt whose side they were on. 

He reached for his gun, finagling it out of the holster as he attempted to drag himself further down the bar. Glass showered down on him, liquor bottles breaking as stray bullets slammed into them. A gargled scream of suffering ripped through the club – someone else had been hit. 

Minseok stayed close to the ground, hoping that he would somehow manage to make it out of the club alive. He was nearing the end of the bar when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a split second reaction that had him firing, a body falling with a thud a few feet away. He registered that it was Dong Il, the older man sporting a gaping hole in his head. 

He was running on instinct now, the will to survive, as he exchanged fire with another person who peeked over the bar, gun in hand. He didn’t know who he had shot other than it wasn’t Chanyeol, his brother still shouting for him. 

Minseok was a second away from pulling the trigger for a third time when he stopped himself, realizing who had just ducked around the bar. Luhan. It was Luhan and he looked terrified. He stared at Minseok, wide eyed, blood dripping down his arms. Had he been shot? 

The fear in his eyes told Minseok everything he needed to know. 

“We need to get out of here.” Minseok dragged himself towards Luhan, broken glass jabbing into his legs and torso as he tried to move. For a moment he thought Luhan was too afraid to move.

“How?” The Chinese man finally spoke, his voice cracking.

Minseok aimed again as a body flew back towards the entrance of the long bar. He stopped himself from shooting. Changmin. He landed against the wall, the impact breaking the paneling. Blood pooled under the lifeless body. Changmin. He…was he…..

“How do we get out?!” Luhan shouted. 

Minseok gestured towards the doorway behind the bar, a swinging door that led to the kitchens and the back exit. It was a gamble, there were probably people waiting for them outside. But it was the only way. 

Minseok managed to sit up and scoot through the door, Luhan behind him as the shots continued, a few bullets whirring close to Minseok as he entered the kitchen. It was dark, apparently unoccupied. Minseok stumbled to his feet in the darkness, gritting his teeth through the pain. Once he was on his feet he staggered towards where the exit was located. He felt Luhan grasp onto him in the darkness. 

He was so close, only a few feet away from the exit, when his body convulsed. His left arm flew forward, another jolt of pain coursing through his body. He had been shot, another bullet piercing him in the arm. 

He lost consciousness, the blood loss to much to bear.

  
  


Luhan caught Minseok as he fell, holding the smaller man to him. In the near darkness he could make out a kitchen, the low light of an exit sign visible a few feet away. He knew whoever was shooting would probably be upon them in a second. With all his energy he scooped Minseok up in his arm and ran, bursting out of the door and into an alley. He ran, the sound of shooting fading as he turned right then left, not knowing where he was going. His arms were bleeding, glass embedded in his skin. 

A light drizzle was beginning to fall as Luhan ran blindly, ducking down an alley, running half a block and crossing the street. He didn’t know how far he was from the club when he spotted a taxi cab on the side of the road. 

He didn’t have time to consider if this was the best escape route. Luhan leaned Minseok against the cab, opened the door, and shoved him in the backseat. He hopped in after him and slammed the door shut. “Drive!”

“Whoa! What in the hell happened to you?” The cab drivers jaw dropped, his eyes were wide as he stared at his new passengers. 

“I can pay you- a lot. Just drive.” Luhan beat on the back of the passenger’s seat in frustration. “DRIVE”

Money talked. The cab driver sped away. 

Money talked, but had its limits. “Is he bleeding?!” The cab driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “Fuck I am calling the cops.”

“Drive.” A gun was jammed into the back of the driver’s seat. Luhan had no idea that Minseok had regained consciousness until he was holding the pistol aloft. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fine I’ll drive! DON’T SHOOT ME.” The taxi driver stepped on the gas.

Minseok rattled off an address. “I’ll pay you ten million won if you take us there.”

The drive stared straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he sped down the rain soaked roads.

Minseok slumped back in his seat, letting his pistol fall to his side. Blood was smeared along the seat, a gruesome sight that made Luhan’s stomach turn.

“We need to stop the bleeding.” He wasn’t sure that Minseok would survive if he didn’t act fast. He shucked off his suit jacket, with a strong rip he tore off a piece of the fabric. “Hold this on your leg, I need to tie your arm off.” He pushed the coat towards Minseok.

Minseok grunted, balling the suit coat up and pressing it onto the wound on his leg. Luhan went to work on Minseok’s arm, tying the fabric strip into a tight tourniquet. He needed to cut off the pulse and stop the bleeding, which would require the fabric to be tied into as tight of a knot as possible. Minseok flinched at the pressure but didn’t cry out.

“Now your leg.” Luhan tore a strip off of his dress shirt. Minseok wordlessly moved the coat from his leg wound to his arm, giving Luhan access to tie the fabric around his thigh. 

“You aren’t dead so I assume it didn’t hit any arteries.” Luhan pulled the fabric strip, mumbling apologies as Minseok jerked his leg in pain. 

“What happened back there?” Luhan needed to know how the meeting had turned into a bloodbath. He had caught sight of Chanyeol with a gun in his hand, but that was the extent of what he knew.

“Chanyeol.” Minseok gasped as his head lulled back. “Judging by who was there I have a coup on my hands. The fuckers.”

Luhan didn’t have the mental power to digest what a coup meant. What running off with Minseok, who was being gunned for by his own mob, meant. Instead he focused on the immediate future. “Where are we going?”

“A place they can’t find us…for now.” Minseok closed his eyes, slipping back into the darkness.

  
  
  


That place turned out to be near the ocean, in a neighborhood that looked surprisingly normal. The drive slowed down as the road became narrow, snaking past older homes with neatly maintained facades. Minseok stirred as they approached the address, his face pale and lips thin as he struggled to sit up.

“Wait here.” Minseok instructed the driver when he came to a dead stop.

Luhan couldn’t believe it when Minseok attempted to get out of the car. “Stop, you are going to hurt yourself worse.”

“I fail to see how that is possible.” Minseok managed to swing one leg out of the car before Luhan was upon him, lending him his arm so he could stand. 

“Lean into me if you are too stubborn to be carried.” Luhan supported Minseok’s weight as best he could, the pressure applied to his arms causing him remember that he too was injured. During the gun battle shards of glass had pierced his skin, jabbing into his arms as he fell to the floor in an effort to take cover. 

“Over there.” Minseok gestured with a nod of his head. It was a small house, dark and unassuming. “In the second cupboard on the left, in the kitchen.”

“What?”

“Money. Get out a stack and give it to the driver.” Luhan didn’t move right away. “Go, now!” The gang leader slumped against the side of the house.

  
  
  


The house was pitch black inside. Luhan ran his hand across the wall until he found a light switch, a single bare lightbulb flickering on when he flipped it. The house wasn’t large, the kitchen adjoined the living room. Luhan counted the cupboards, finding the second on the left. When he opened it he gasped. Stacks of Won filled the shelves, stuffed in tightly. He grabbed a stack of bills and rushed out of the house. 

“Here, and sorry.” Luhan shoved the bundle of money through the driver’s side window. The driver peeled out as soon as he had his money in hand.

“We need to hurry.” Minseok hissed at Luhan as he walked back towards the house. “We need to get cleaned up and go.”

“Go? For fucks sake you are half dead. We can’t go anywhere!” Luhan failed to see how being this stubborn was a good thing. 

Minseok ignored his protests, limping into the house. “Grab me that bag.” He pointed at a blue backpack sitting in a corner of the living room.

“Stop.” Luhan wasn’t going to do anything, not without an explanation. “Why do we need to leave? I thought you said no one can find us here?”

“They might have seen us get in the cab. You think the driver isn’t going to tell them where he dropped us off if he has a gun shoved in his face?”

Minseok did have a point. Luhan retrieved the bag without further questions. 

“Hand me a shirt and some pants, should be some in there for you too.” Minseok waved his hand towards the bag. 

Luhan unzipped the backpack and pulled out a couple of t-shirts and a pair of jeans. 

“Bandages too, in the bag.” 

Luhan dug into the bottom of the bag, pulling out gauze. “Sit, I can help you.”

Minseok didn’t refuse. He lowered himself to the ground and let Luhan peel away his clothing. Blood was everywhere, staining Minseok’s skin, even smeared across his back, covering the large tattoo that snaked over his shoulder blades. Luhan retrieved a towel from the kitchen and hurriedly cleaned him up before bandaging his wounds. After tying a fresh tourniquet on Minseok’s limbs he helped him slip into a t-shirt and jeans.

“Hurry, change. Then we need to leave.” Minseok fell back against the wall. 

Luhan unbuttoned his white dress shirt, throwing it on the ground. He used the same towel that he had washed Minseok with to clean the blood off his arms. The process stung, the glass shards still pricking him. He would have to pick them out later. “How are we going to get out of here?”

“Can you drive?”

“Maybe.” Luhan had never driven anything bigger than a motorbike.

“Keys should be in the bag. Grab some money too, we’ll need it.” 

Luhan went to work as quickly as he could, his heart beating erratically as he collected as much money as he could fit into the backpack. When he returned to the living room he found Minseok sitting with his eyes closed.

“Minseok!” Luhan was afraid he had died. 

The gangster snapped his eyes open. “Come on, car is in the back.”

“I’m carrying you.” Luhan knew that Minseok’s energy was draining when he didn’t refuse. He picked the smaller man up as gently as he could. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t have a place, just get us the hell out of Busan.”

Luhan followed Minseok’s directions, walking to an alley behind the house. A nondescript economy sedan was parked out back. After putting Minseok in the passenger’s side Luhan slipped behind the wheel. 

“What is the best way to get out of the city?” Luhan looked over when Minseok didn’t respond.

The Korean man had gone limp, his breathing ragged. Luhan stepped on the gas, hoping he could get them out of the city alive. 

Luhan drove for an hour on the expressway, heading north, destination unknown. He was sure he was probably driving like shit, he had never driven a car before. It didn’t help that he kept glancing over every minute, afraid that Minseok had stopped breathing. 

Ulsan. The signs said Ulsan. Luhan got off on a random exit, hopeful that he could find a place to stay. Minseok needed medical attention, and fast. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


#  Chapter 7

Luhan parked the car outside of a restaurant, the neon sign still flashing even though the inside was dark. He had driven for over an hour, getting off on a random exit and driving aimlessly through the nearly empty streets. He pulled over when he realized the entire effort was stupid – they were out of Busan – the focus now should be getting Minseok some medical attention. 

“Minseok. Minseok.” He reached over and patted Minseok’s cheek. Minseok shifted slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. “Minseok, we are in Ulsan.”

The Korean man’s eyes fluttered open for a brief second before closing again.

“Shit.” Luhan pounded on the steering wheel in frustration. Minseok needed a doctor.

“I am taking you to the hospital.” Luhan turned the key in the ignition.

“No!” Minseok’s voice was raspy.

“You want to die?”

“No hospital.” Minseok grabbed Luhan’s sleeve, his grasp weak. “Please.” He looked so pitiful, pale and weak. 

“You are going to die if you don’t have medical treatment!” Luhan shouted, unable to control his anger. “What the fuck am I supposed to do if you die on me? What the fuck am I even doing here?!”

“Uni-“Minseok choked. “University.”

“What?” Luhan leaned in closer.

“Find a med student.” Minseok’s last action before he passed out was to push his pistol towards Luhan. 

  
  
  


The sun was rising when Luhan found the medical college. He had stopped at a gas station and asked for directions, the cashier eyeing him suspiciously as he asked “how to get to the nearest medical college, any one will do.”

The place was nearly deserted, which wasn’t a surprise given the time of day. Luhan doubted that classes started at five in the morning. The campus was a scattering of white and grey buildings near an expressway. The place looked more like an office complex than a school. 

He drove slowly along the campus roads until he found a lot with a few cars. He parked the car and grabbed the pistol. Could he do it?  _ Would he do it _ ? He stared at Minseok, focusing on how his chest rose and fell, his breathing growing more labored. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Luhan watched the building entrance, grasping the pistol tightly. He hoped he didn’t fire it accidentally. He had never used a gun, never held one. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ten minutes after Luhan parked the car someone left the building. He looked young and was wearing what appeared to be a lab coat. His mop of chestnut hair was a mess, his tanned skin and bright eyes making him the picture of a twenty something at ease with the world. A typical college student – the rare one that wasn’t hung over.

Luhan shut his eyes tightly and hissed. He opened the car door and stepped out into the cool morning air. He kept the pistol hidden behind his back as he approached the man.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you.” Luhan bowed. “Are you a medical student?”

The man nodded. “Yeah. Can I help you?”

“Uh, this may be a weird question but I was wonder if you could come with me? I –“Luhan tried to think fast but his mind was not cooperating. “My friend hurt his arm while we were jogging and could you maybe look at it?”

“Sure!” 

Well that was easy, he didn’t even have to pull a gun on the man. Luhan pointed towards the car. “He is in the car. It um, hurts for him to move it.”

Without hesitation the student walked towards the vehicle. “Is it swollen?”

“No.” Luhan followed a few steps behind, the gun under his shirt lest anyone was watching from behind him. 

“Ah, probably just a sprain but I can check it out! A good place to get injured, by a medical college.” The student laughed, clutching his stomach as he marveled in his own humor.

The student paused once he reached the passenger door. He peered into the car, his arm resting on the top of the vehicle. 

“Oh, did he pass out?” The student turned around as Luhan pulled the pistol and jabbed it into his ribs. 

“Get in the car.” Luhan growled. 

“What? Is that a gun?!” The student looked so shocked it was almost comical.

“Get in the fucking car.” Luhan jabbed the barrel of the gun into the man’s side.

“Okay, okay! I will get in the car!” The student stumbled forward. Luhan opened the door and shoved him in the back seat. He rushed to the driver’s side, afraid that the guy might make a run for it. 

“Are you kidnapping me?!” The student squeaked from the back seat, yet he didn’t make a move to escape.

“Yes. Maybe. Look my friend needs medical attention.” Luhan pushed the door lock button, making sure the back seat was child locked. “Treat him and you can go.”

“What happened to him?” The student sounded more curious than afraid.

“He was shot.”

“Shot?!” 

“Yeah, in the arm and the leg. Can you help?” Luhan started the car and began driving.

“I…well, I don’t know if I can.” The rest of what the student said was a string of muttered words that Luhan couldn’t hear. “I know someone who can though.”

“Who?” Luhan wasn’t keen on the idea of another person entering into this kidnapping.

“My girlfriend. Look she is a third year, I just started. She is at our apartment now, she could treat him.”

Luhan debated. It was very likely that the student was directing him somewhere so he could escape, call the police, and both Luhan and Minseok would end up in jail. Luhan would be deported and probably finally get the death penalty that Yixing and Zhi Xiang had worked so hard to save him from.

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

“Sir, I am trying to help.” It was whiney.

Luhan considered that he might be delirious from a lack of sleep, the events of the last twelve hours, and a whole host of other things – but he went for it. He let the student direct him towards an apartment building, an eight story brick building with two large planters full of withered flowers sitting by the entrance. 

“I need to get the door, can you carry him?” The student tried to open the car door but was stopped by the child lock. He looked at Luhan helplessly.

Luhan exhaled. Fuck this all seemed like a terrible idea. “Yeah. Hold on.” He unlocked the back door, pausing for a moment to see what the man would do. He exited the car but he didn’t run or yell or do any of the other things he could have done to attract attention to the situation. 

Luhan got out of the car, tucking the pistol into his pocket as he walked around to the passenger side. He nearly forgot about the backpack full of money, only noticing it when he opened the passenger side door and saw it by Minseok’s feet. He threw it over his shoulders before picking Minseok up. Minseok had been unconscious for the last couple of hours, his body limp and unmoving. 

The student rushed forward and unlocked the entrance, holding the door open for them. “Elevator is straight ahead”

They rode the elevator to the seventh floor, Luhan growing more afraid as every second passed. Minseok looked so pale, so lifeless.

“702, right over here.” The student ran to a door and punched a code in the keypad. With a beep the apartment was unlocked. “Don’t mind the dog, he doesn’t bite.”

Luhan stepped inside as quickly as he could, not wanting to prolong standing in the hallway clutching a man close to death.

“Kim Jongin, you are an hour late.“ It was teasing, seductive, and most certainly not supposed to be heard by Luhan. 

“Noona, can you help?” Jongin intercepted the woman who slowly walked towards the door. “Noona, cover up!”

She was dressed in a white button down that hung to her hips and nothing else. She let out a loud screech when she saw Luhan and Minseok. The student, or Jongin as the woman had called him, attempted to block Luhan’s view with his body.

“Jongin who in the hell?! What in the-“

“Yoona, I can explain, just-“Jongin turned around and spoke to Luhan. “Give us a minute please. You can um, put him down on the sofa. In there.” Jongin pointed towards the living room.

A slew of “What is going on? Who are they?” and “Jongin what the fuck” and “OMG did they see me half naked” followed by “Nooooona, they need our help and you are a third year and I am a first year and” echoed through the apartment. 

Luhan found the sofa, a cheap looking bright blue piece of furniture that screamed broke college student. He set Minseok down as softly as he could. His next action was to pull the pistol out of his pants pockets, having it there was making him nervous for obvious reasons. 

Shrill yips assaulted Luhan as he set the gun on the coffee table. An apricot colored toy poodle rushed him, barking and wagging his tail.

Luhan didn’t have the willpower to care. He sat next to the couch, moving the gun to sit in his lap. Fuck. 

  
  
  


“Do I want to know why he was shot?” Yoona was leaning over Minseok, continuing to dress his wounds. 

She had insisted that he be brought to a hospital but Luhan had argued against it, he knew Minseok would kill him if they ended up at a hospital. Jongin, for whatever, reason, hadn’t mentioned the gun and Luhan had been smart enough to hide it before she saw. After a tense few minutes of back and forth she finally relented, agreeing to treat him at the apartment. 

“No, you don’t.” Luhan wasn’t going to provide details. 

“He lost some blood, but the wounds themselves aren’t terrible as far as gunshots go. He isn’t going to lose function in his limbs and he should be up and about with a few day’s rest.” She handed a ball of bloody gauze to Jongin, who promptly threw the dirtied bandages in the garbage can.

“Good.” Luhan could at least take comfort in the fact Minseok wasn’t going to die on him, for whatever that was worth. 

“The wounds are cleaned and I treated them with antibiotic ointment.” She tore off a piece of medical tape, carefully placing a padding of gauze over the wound. “But you will need to redress them every day until they heal.”

“I can do that.”

“I would suggest not moving him but considering you barged into my apartment like this and I have no idea who you are or where you came from, I would like you two to get the hell out now.” She really looked sweet when she smiled – even after dropping a curse word or two.

“You have somewhere to go, right?” Jongin quirked an eyebrow, ignoring the scowls from his girlfriend.

Luhan didn’t say anything, which gave Jongin his answer. “Noona, he is hurt. Can’t they rest here today?”

“Kim Jongin, I –“ Yoona threw her hands up in frustration. She shut her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten. “Jongin, if they turn out to be criminals or did something terrible so help me god I will-“

“Thanks noona! I knew you would say yes.” Jongin planted a kiss on her lips, causing her to pout for a split second. 

“Now I need to get to class.”

“Okay, I will keep them company.” Jongin announced cheerfully. 

Luhan didn’t argue. He leaned back in the purple living room chair and shut his eyes. After a few minutes he was asleep.

  
  
  


_ “That is him, right?” _

_ “Shhh, they might hear us.” _

_ “Well he most definitely isn’t dead.” _

_ “He must be loaded. Maybe he will pay us a ton for saving him.” _

_ “Noona!” _

Luhan stirred, the voices stopping when he opened his eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was, a confusing string of memories running together as he spotted Minseok on the sofa. 

“Is he…how is he?” Luhan darted over to get a look at the man. He was still unconscious, but he was definitely breathing. 

Luhan looked from Minseok to the television, where two people sat perched in front of the set watching the news. Yoona and Jongin stared back at him with the strangest expression on their faces, like they had been caught doing something wrong. 

_ SBC News has learned that Kim Minseok, the CEO of KPC Corporation passed away last night in a car accident. KPC Corporation, one of the largest shipping and logistic companies operating in the Busan Metropolitan area, has seen shares decrease slightly with the uncertainty that accompanies this news.  _

Luhan should have known, should have suspected as much. Minseok had said Chanyeol was behind a coup, if it happened with the shady part of their business it would happen with their legitimate business too. After Minseok escaped Chanyeol must have known he would be in hiding, the perfect time to convince everyone else he was already deceased and seize control for himself. 

“That is him, right?” Yoona pointed from the picture on the television screen to the unconscious man on the couch. 

Luhan nodded. “Yeah, that is him.”

“But he isn’t-“Jongin looked from the screen, now showing images of Chanyeol standing next to Minseok’s funeral portrait, and to Minseok. Back and forth like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Dead. No, he isn’t. But his brother wants him to be.” Luhan cracked his neck, feeling stiff after having slept sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Eleven o’clock.” Yoona answered but her attention was focused on Minseok. “Are we in danger?”

Luhan could be honest and tell her maybe but then she would kick them out. He didn’t want to be stuck in a car driving aimlessly so he lied. “No. We got away.”

“I can’t believe his brother would want him dead.” Jongin appeared thoughtful. “I mean I don’t have brothers but you would think-“

“What do we get for keeping this a secret?” Yoona blurted out.

“Noona!”

“We don’t let the bad guys know where you live.” Luhan shrugged. That was the last time Yoona brought up the idea of a reward.

  
  
  
  


He needed to get in contact with Yixing and Zhi Xiang. They likely thought he was dead, if they had heard the news about Minseok. If they hadn’t learned of that fact they were likely cursing him for so blatantly ignoring them. However Luhan had no idea how to contact them. He hadn’t memorized their phone numbers or been told what to do if something like this happened. Probably because no one had an inkling that it would.

He had no idea if Chanyeol was gunning for him too. He probably was if he knew he had escaped with Minseok. 

And then there was the Seohyun issue, that overwhelming burst of truth that was shadowed by a violent shootout. She was in Korea and she was Minseok’s sister in law. Luhan was angry and bitter but his immediate survival would overshadow his old feelings for now. 

Jongin made him ramyun that night and Luhan scarfed it done at an alarming rate. After he was done Jongin set up a makeshift bed on the living room floor, right next to the sofa. 

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you.” Luhan delivered his gratitude as nonchalantly as possible – especially given the fact he had stuck a gun in Jongin’s ribs.

“No problem.” Jongin smiled brightly. Luhan wondered how anyone could be so happy all the time.

“But why-“Luhan lowered his voice,” why didn’t you tell her about the gun?”

Jongin shrugged. “Didn’t seem that important, especially since you only did it to get your friend some medical attention. If my friend couldn’t go to the hospital because he was being chased I would do the same thing.”

“You would?” Luhan didn’t quite believe that.

“Yeah. I would. Goodnight.”

If there was one spot of luck in the last two days it was kidnapping the right medical student. At least Luhan had that going for him.

  
  
  
  


#  Chapter 8

Minseok opened his eyes and looked slowly around the room. White walls, a red sheer curtain, and a cheap poster of some godawful idol group stared back at him. Then the pain set in, a dull throbbing that reminded him it might be a good idea to not make any sudden movements. He attempted to slowly sit up but his body did not want to cooperate, his muscles weak and unwilling to do as he commanded. 

A shrill yip sounded, taking Minseok by surprise. He pressed himself back into the – whatever it was he was laying on. He hated dogs. Absolutely loathed them. 

“Kyuhyun! Sit!” 

Minseok watched as a woman entered his line of sight, wagging a finger towards the floor. Minseok followed where she pointed, making eye contact with the little devil. 

“Oh! You are awake!” She squeaked.

“Dog.  _ Get that dog away _ ,” Minseok rasped, his throat dry and painful as he spoke.

The woman scooped up the small creature, seemingly understanding how adamant he was about having the canine out of his sight. “Jongin! He is awake!”

Minseok managed to get himself in a seated position with only some minor groans.

“How do you feel?” A young man rushed forward, eying Minseok up and down.

“Where am I?”

“Ah, right. You were out the whole time.” The man scratched the back of his neck. “Your frie-“

“Minseok.” Luhan was standing in the doorway, a towel around his neck, and his hair wet. Minseok noticed how gaunt and exhausted he looked. 

So Luhan had brought him there. “I feel like shit. How long have I been asleep?”

“A day. It happened two nights ago.” Luhan’s lips formed a thin line as he reported how much time had passed.

Minseok leaned back into the couch. Two nights. So he had managed to stay alive that long, at least.

  
  


Luhan had been idle for the last day, sitting around the apartment as Minseok remained asleep. He may not have done much physically but mentally he was far from lazy. There was a lot to think about as he waited for Minseok to pull through. 

He knew he had to contact Zhi Xiang but beyond that de debated if he had options. The easiest thing to do would be to return to China and forget about what had happened here. For Zhi Xiang to cut his losses and find another way to make money. Luhan would probably be given something to do now and then, most certainly supported by Yixing and Zhi Xiang, and life would go on. That would be the easy thing, but then again Luhan’s life had never been easy.

He chuckled to himself when he even considered the other option. He could stay in Korea. Minseok was going to live (if Jongin and Yoona were to be believed). Luhan had little doubt that the man wouldn’t take an attempt on his life lightly. He imagined that the moment Minseok was well enough to fight he would, attempting to regain control of his gang while taking revenge against his half-brother. His half-brother who was married to the person Luhan hated the most in the world.

If he stayed, convincing Minseok to let him take part in any plans for revenge, he would have his own ability to vindicate the wrong that was done to him. If Chanyeol fell so would his wife – or at least Luhan could make sure of it. 

Minseok would probably tell him to go back to China and not interfere. Luhan needed a good argument as to why that wasn’t the wisest course of action. He finally figured it out as he took a long, hot shower – only minutes before Minseok came to.

  
  
  


It had been difficult to get Jongin and Yoona out of the apartment long enough to have a private conversation. Minseok had whispered to Luhan that they needed to talk, but so far they hadn’t had the chance. It wasn’t like they could blurt out the truth of what had gone down in front of the med students, especially since the couple firmly believed Minseok to be a legitimate business man who had been terribly wronged by his own family. Minseok doubted they would take kindly to learning he was running a large criminal empire.

Mid-morning, the day after Minseok woke up, they found their chance to talk. Yoona headed off to class and Jongin went to take the dog for a walk. Minseok waited for a few minutes before he spoke, wanting to insure that Jongin was long gone and unable to hear what he had to say. 

“What now?” Two simple words left Luhan’s mouth, kicking off the conversation that Minseok had every intention of starting.

“We go our separate ways.” He had decided as much over the last night. He wasn’t exactly sure what was ahead of him but he knew it would be a difficult path. A path that had nothing to do with Luhan. 

“Are you sure that is wise?” Luhan leaned forward, his expression serious. 

“I don’t see how you are anything other than a liability. Our business deal isn’t going to happen, it is time for you to leave.” Minseok gritted his teeth, waiting for Luhan’s response.

The Chinese man took a few seconds before answering. When he did he was calm and collected. “Our business deal  _ can _ still happen, if I understand what you are thinking right now.”

“I highly doubt you do.” Minseok hated presumptuous people. 

“You want revenge. You want to get your organization back –  _ both organizations _ .” Luhan emphasized his words. “I can help.”

Minseok snorted. “I fail to see how you will be anything but a hindrance.” What Minseok couldn’t say is that he already understood why Luhan was so invested in what Minseok was going to do next. It was because of Seohyun. Minseok wasn’t interested in getting involved in a decade’s long lover’s quarrel, not when his own life was on the line. 

“I fail to see how you don’t recognize a useful resource when it is sitting right in front of you,” Luhan challenged. “We had a business deal, but that doesn’t mean it is done. You may not be running the show but Chanyeol is. I am sure that he will be just as interested in the deal as you were.”

Minseok held his tongue. He couldn’t tell Luhan the truth - which his entire plan had been to betray the Chinese in the end anyway. He was going to take everything from them and maybe even put a bullet in Luhan. That part he hadn’t decided on.

“I could be close to him, tell you what is going on in the inside as we go through with the deal. Meanwhile you can do what you need to in order to regain control. Chanyeol will be deposed, our deal will still be on, and we both win.”

“I doubt even Chanyeol is stupid enough to trust the man who was last seen running away with his enemy.” Minseok would find any hole to poke in Luhan’s plan. He didn’t want Luhan around, getting in the way as he attempted to enact some vendetta on Seohyun. It was too risky, too emotional, and too full of ways to go wrong.

“Do you think he will hold that against me when I claim I was scared of being shot too? Do you think he will hold it against me when he knows how much money he stands to make when the deal is done?”

He certainly had thought this through, it annoyed Minseok to no end. “Do you think Zhi Xiang will be happy to go along with your little plan?”

“He will have to be,” Luhan answered confidently.

“And what if I fail to regain control?” Minseok would have to be dead first, but it was a possibility nonetheless.

“Then we make the deal with Chanyeol and still make money.” 

Minseok groaned. He shut his eyes, thinking. He wished Changmin was here to help him make sense of everything, but the last time he had seen his secretary the man had a bullet in his skull. The memory was painful, inciting the rage in Minseok. 

If he let Luhan stay and help they would have to trust each other. That meant Minseok would eventually have to tell him about his original plans for the deal. It meant that Minseok would have to eventually put his life in Luhan’s hands in one way or another. 

He didn’t like that idea. Even if Luhan had basically saved his life it was a spur of the moment action. It could easily be chalked up to the fact Luhan had no other option but to do so. Was he trustworthy? Minseok debated, his mind still foggy from the assault on his body two days prior. 

He would probably regret it. 

“If I let you help and you betray me I will kill you.”

“I would expect you to.”

Minseok exhaled sharply. “Fine, but we need to get out of here soon.”

Luhan lifted an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you rest for a little bit longer?”

“I fucking hate dogs,” Minseok hissed, scowling at the way his words made Luhan smile.

  
  


“But you should rest!” Jongin pouted at Luhan when he informed the med student they would need to leave soon.

“Jongin, we can’t stay here forever.” Luhan had to admit he had grown fond of the young man in the short time he had known him. He had yet to know a person that could take being kidnapped so well – it really said something for him. 

“I know, but he is still recovering.” Jongin gestured towards Minseok. He had yet to say his name aloud, acting a bit shy whenever he was in proximity to the Korean man. Luhan had a feeling it had something to do with finding out Minseok was the CEO of KPC corp. 

“Your girlfriend said I would be fine.” Minseok was eager to get away from the apartment, looking half sick whenever the small apricot poodle so much as looked in his general direction.

Luhan could understand a phobia but he wasn’t keen on getting back in the sedan and driving. As of yet they had nowhere to go. Minseok had muttered vague words about knowing where to look for a place but that was far from reassuring. As of now they had a backpack full of money and a car. As far as Luhan could discern Minseok didn’t even know how to get in contact with Zhi Xiang or anyone else. 

“But what if she is wrong?” Jongin put his hands on his hips. “Not that she usually is, but still.” He paused for a few seconds. “Please don’t tell her I said she might be wrong.”

“If something happens we will come back for treatment,” Minseok assured him, ignoring his request. 

“But where will you go?”

Luhan could tell that Minseok was getting annoyed with all of the questions. He decided to be honest. “I am not sure.” He ignored the angry look that Minseok directed his way.

“You need a place to stay!” Jongin seemed unusually happy about this fact. 

“Why, do you have a place?” Luhan continued to ignore Minseok, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I don’t, but Noona does. Her cousin is studying overseas right now. We go over and feed her cat every few days. I am sure you could stay there for a while! She won’t be back for…” Jongin counted on his fingers. “Nine more months!”

“What is the security like?” Minseok asked. Luhan was surprised he was so much as entertaining the idea.

“Better than here. She lives in one of the high-rises downtown. A security guard and everything.” Jongin was clearly excited with the idea. 

“I want to see it before I decide.”

“Of course! We can go now!”

Luhan was dumbstruck as Minseok followed Jongin towards the door. The gang leader was full of surprises it seemed. 

  
  
  
  


“Jongin, you realize if you tell anyone that we are staying here…” Minseok trained his eyes on the med student, shooting him a disturbing and powerful look. 

Jongin stepped back, a physical reaction to Minseok’s gaze. “I won’t! I promise! Sir, I think it was terrible what your brother did and-“

“Good, I am glad you understand.” Minseok could morph from scary to ...well, less scary (Luhan still thought that half sneer, half smile was a force to be reckoned with) in very little time. 

The apartment that Jongin had directed them to was more than nice, it was downright luxurious. Luhan couldn’t fathom why Jongin and Yoona weren’t staying here themselves, considering the cramped apartment they called home.

“They don’t allow dogs,” Jongin explained as Luhan watched Minseok wander around the apartment. 

The man was checking – for what Luhan wasn’t sure. He inspected everything, looking under cushions and behind pictures. 

After a long and careful sweep of the apartment Minseok announced that they would take it. “How much do you want?”

“You don’t have to pay!” Jongin waved his hands in front of him. “Soonkyu owns the apartment and the bills come out of her account monthly. Just please don’t mess it up or anything or Noona will kill me.”

Luhan made the promise that they would keep the apartment clean and the possessions in one piece. Minseok didn’t say anything until he uttered his implied threat towards Jongin. When the tension cleared they stood around awkwardly, Jongin finally make a motion to leave. 

Luhan asked the med student if he needed a ride back but Jongin turned him down. “I will take a taxi.” He was unfailingly willing to accommodate others. Luhan found it strange to be around someone like that. 

Jongin bade a warm goodbye to Luhan before issuing very formal words of parting with Minseok. 

Luhan walked him to the door. “Thanks for um- thanks for letting us stay here.” Luhan owed him at least that much.

“Hey, no problem! Just call if you need anything!” Jongin smiled brightly. He was halfway out the door when he turned around. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. The cat food is in the kitchen, under the sink. Princess needs to be fed once a day, though we usually just leave enough food out so she is good for a few days.”

Luhan nodded to convey he understood that they were supposed to feed the cat. Jongin shot him a thumbs up and left without another word. 

When Luhan walked into the living room he had expected to see Minseok standing there. Maybe sitting. Probably still eying the place from floor to ceiling. What he found instead was the Korean man on the couch, a big orange cat in his lap. He was caressing behind its ears, smiling at the creature.

Luhan had definitely never expected that. 

“Her name is Princess.”

“Good to know.” Minseok kept petting the cat. For the first time, Luhan thought Minseok looked almost happy. 

  
  
  


Minseok had dug the cell phone out of the backpack, half expecting it not to work. It had been a year since he had stashed the things in that house – back before his father died. There had been inner turmoil in the organization, minor compared to what had just occurred, but it was still an unpredictable situation. It was during this time that Minseok took Changmin’s advice. “You never know what will happen, Minseok. Be prepared.”

He had bought an untraceable cell phone and stashed enough money to give him a new start if he needed it. A change of clothes and a car completed his emergency planning. 

He had never thought that  _ this _ , Chanyeol betraying him so effectively, would be the catalyst to having to utilize his emergency stash. He had never seen it coming, and for that he couldn’t forgive himself. He was unfailingly careful – or so he thought. Yet the entire time he went about business Chanyeol was plotting from within. And it had worked. Whatever he had done to convince the others it had worked. 

Tao had shot him. Changmin was dead. Minseok had no doubt Kame had gone along with the plan. And the others…he had caught a glimpse of Sehun, of Hyuseung, and of Baekhyun at the club. Chanyeol had convinced them all. 

Minseok balled his fists as he thought about the betrayal. To make matters worse the world had declared him dead – a reality he faced when Luhan flicked on the news back at Yoona and Jongin’s apartment. Minseok had watched it without uttering a word, not trusting himself to speak lest he lose total control. 

No, he was going to bide his time and when he could, he would get it all back. Chanyeol would rue the day he betrayed his older brother. He would regret ever trying it, regret ever thinking it was a good idea. Minseok would have his revenge, and he was resolved that Chanyeol would never see it coming. 

Dragging himself out of his inner rage, Minseok pushed the power button on the phone. When he saw bars on the top left of the screen, indicating he had a signal, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now he had to hope that he could access his backup files – files that Changmin had encrypted and stored in a place away from the company servers.

With a few missteps, namely forgetting the exact password during his first attempt, he found the location of the files. He began downloading them, knowing that the folder was programmed to delete itself when it was downloaded once. Changmin had always been so thorough. 

When the download was finished Minseok went in search of Luhan. The Chinese man had disappeared into one of the bedrooms while Minseok toiled with the phone. 

He found Luhan sitting on a bed in what looked like a guest bedroom – very neat and missing the personal items that would indicate someone lived in the room on a regular basis. 

“Here.” Minseok held the phone out, jutting it in front of Luhan’s face. “Call Zhi Xiang. His number is saved.”

Luhan looked surprised at first but took the phone without asking any questions. 

Minseok sat down in a white wicker chair rested in a corner of the room. He crossed his legs and watched.

“Are you going to watch me?” Luhan asked.

“We are partners now, aren’t we? I need to make sure you are true to your word.” Minseok relaxed into the chair, waiting for Luhan to make the call.

  
  
  


“Where in the fuck have you been?!” It was exactly the type of greeting that Luhan had expected from Zhi Xiang.

“Listen, there was some trouble and-“

“No fuck there was trouble! Last I checked Kim Minseok is dead. What in the hell happened?”

Luhan exhaled, casting a glance at Minseok. The man was watching him intently. It was unnerving.

“Look, Minseok’s brother took over the organization. There was a shootout.”

“Are you okay?!” Finally Zhi Xiang asked something that didn’t involve a swear word or was spoken as a shout.

“Yeah. I am fine. Hey, I think we can still go through with this though. I haven’t been in contact with Chanyeol because things got really messy during the fight and I ran. But I think if you talk to him, tell him we are still interested, I can still make the deal.”

“You sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah. We will be rich, remember?” Luhan stared at the floor, afraid to look over at Minseok. He hadn’t exactly revealed his plan to Zhi Xiang, not in the same way he had explained it to Minseok. He had no doubt the Korean man was probably two seconds away from losing all faith in him. Yet he wasn’t sure that he could say everything at the moment, that he could tell Zhi Xiang about Seohyun, that doing so would end in Zhi Xiang’s agreement. 

“I don’t know…” Zhi Xiang was uncharacteristically hesitant. “Lu, what if some more shit goes down. Yixing will kill me if you get hurt.”

How sensitive of him, Luhan thought. He didn’t want to make Yixing mad, not a word about feeling terrible if Luhan himself was hurt. He sighed. 

“Maybe you should come back. We can talk it over with the new guy, get a feel for things.”

Luhan argued against it, trying to be convincing. Zhi Xiang finally relented, promising he would get in contact with Chanyeol. Luhan barely remembered to ask Zhi Xiang not to give Chanyeol the cell phone number – but to tell Chanyeol he would contact him. The last thing they needed was for Chanyeol to find out Luhan was with Minseok, assuming he didn’t already suspect as much.

When the call ended Luhan cradled the phone in his hands, still afraid to look at Minseok.

“Well?” 

Luhan answered without making eye contact. “He said he would contact Chanyeol.”

“Why didn’t you tell him I am still alive?” 

Luhan bit his bottom lip, gaining some courage he looked at Minseok. The man didn’t look angry. No, he looked strangely calm. “I don’t know.”

“Luhan.” Minseok was flashing his half sneer, his hands demurely folded in his lap. “This is the only time I am going to let you say you don’t know. This is the only time you are going to stray from what you promised me. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” Luhan swallowed. 

“Good. Now let’s make something to eat. I am starving.” Minseok got up and left the room like nothing had happened. 

  
  


#  Chapter 9

Luhan let Minseok do the cooking. The Korean man didn’t seem particularly skilled at food preparation but Luhan was certain he was at least better than his own meager skills. 

They ate eggs and rice at the dining room table, neither saying much. Princess jumped on the table while they were eating, almost giving Luhan a heart attack. Minseok ignored the feline, which gave Luhan enough of an indication of how the man felt about cats versus dogs. 

“It is time to change your bandages.” Luhan had almost forgotten about the timetable Jongin had given him. He only remembered when he spotted the time on the microwave as he put his dishes in the sink. 

Jongin had left him with strict instructions on how to care for Minseok’s wounds, emphasizing certain points of wound care by pausing after he spoke. Luhan felt pretty confident that he could do it, considering he had watched Yoona change and dress the bandaging for the last two days. 

“I am fine,” Minseok grunted, making his way into the living room.

Luhan rolled his eyes. “You won’t be fine if you get an infection. Now sit down, I will get the medical kit.”

When Luhan returned with the plastic case full of supplies Minseok was seated on the sofa. So he had listened. It was a bit surprising.

Minseok didn’t have to be told to take off his shirt. He peeled the t-shirt off and set it beside him, watching as Luhan reread the carefully written instructions.

“How are you feeling?” Luhan carefully removed the bandages that covered the wound on Minseok’s arm. 

“Like I was shot a couple of days ago,” Minseok deadpanned.

Luhan checked the wound, noting that it didn’t look like it was infected. The skin was red, but it wasn’t inflamed. He started to clean the area, leaning in as he inspected his work. He noticed how Minseok stiffened at the close contact, but didn’t dwell on it.

Once he had the wound on Minseok’s arm bandaged he sat back on his legs. “You need to take your pants off.”

Minseok wordlessly followed directions, pushing down the grey pair of jogging pants he had borrowed from Jongin. They were too long for him so he had rolled them up at the cuff, a beyond casual look that was bizarre on the usually suit clad man. Minseok stood up, the only position that would let Luhan have ready access to the wound. 

Luhan was so focused on what he was doing it didn’t really register that he was that close to Minseok’s….

Sure it had occurred to him that Minseok was attractive. He was downright hot. But he hadn’t gone beyond that recognition, hadn’t gone beyond being appreciative but unfeeling. He hadn’t-

“Are you almost finished?”

He also hadn’t registered that he had stopped taping the bandages, deciding instead to stare at Minseok’s skin in a daze. He had nice skin, smooth and pale. Nice thighs as well, defined muscle and -“Yeah, just a second.” He finished taping up the wound in record time, retreating back towards the kitchen to toss out the soiled bandages. 

Once the bandages were safely in the garbage can, Luhan leaned back on the counter, blinking in confusion. Had he just – was he – no. It had to be because it had been so long. He hadn’t been that close to someone in a decade. That was it. Of course. Because there was no way he was attracted to Kim Minseok.

  
  
  
  


“Call him.” Minseok held out the cell phone, waiting for Luhan to take it. 

Minseok had watched the hours pass by, anticipating that Zhi Xiang may call back with news that he had talked to Chanyeol, that a meeting was arranged, that the plan was in motion once again. When the hour hand reached eleven and the call still hadn’t come in Minseok decided he was done waiting.

Luhan was seated at the dining room table, he had been all night. Minseok hadn’t paid attention to what he was doing beyond noticing an open book in front of the man. He had no qualms about interrupting him.

Luhan grabbed the phone and scrolled through the contacts, pushing the call button as Minseok took a seat across from him. 

“Hey it is-“

“So he said we could meet?”

“Ah, I um – I can let you know what to tell him about the place. Yeah. I am sure.”

Minseok clasped his hands together, waiting. Would Luhan tell Zhi Xiang the truth, which was that he was currently sitting across from a dead man? Or would he continue on with this charade, pretending like nothing had happened besides a shootout that had turned Luhan off from the gang for a few days. A violent road bump that had nothing much to do with who was currently holding the reigns in the Korean gang, but everything to do with how spooked Luhan had been. A momentary fear that could be forgotten. 

If Luhan didn’t tell Zhi Xiang then the initial plan had a slightly higher degree of succeeding, Minseok had realized as much somewhere between watching the news and staring at the clock. Once Chanyeol showed some interesting in continuing the business deal, Zhi Xiang would be stuck. And once he was stuck – and learned that Chanyeol would likely betray him – a deal with Minseok would be that much more attractive. That much more of a guarantee. The only way out. 

Luhan hung up the phone, not a word uttered about Minseok. 

Minseok decided to let it go again, even if he was going against his earlier threat. Perhaps Luhan had actually set things up to be more favorable.

Perhaps having Luhan stay had been a good idea. The thought was slightly annoying. 

“Chanyeol wants me to meet him tomorrow. Said he will send someone to pick me up.”

Minseok noticed the tick in Luhan’s brow. He was nervous, rightfully so. There was a chance that Chanyeol only wanted to see him because he knew that Luhan was with Minseok. If so Luhan’s future was bleak – however many hours or days he had left of it. 

“I will drive you into Busan. I’ll give you an address where he can have someone pick you up.” Minseok went in search of a pencil and paper, his speed hampered by his limp.

“And what will you be doing?”

“I have someone I need to go see.” Minseok wasn’t going to tell Luhan anything beyond that. Not right now, not when he couldn’t be sure what was about to happen. He found a pad of paper on the breakfast bar. Writing down an address he handed it to Luhan.

“I will drop you off at a parking garage. From there you will need to take a taxi to this address. Once you are done you can meet me back there.” 

“You don’t think they will follow me?” Luhan narrowed his eyes.

“Of course they will. But I know what I am doing, they won’t be able to keep up if you do as I say.”

Luhan didn’t argue. He called Zhi Xiang back and relayed the address. When he was done with the call he pushed the cell phone back towards Minseok. “If he kills me tomorrow-“

“Then it was nice knowing you.” Minseok scooped up the cell phone. The action made him notice the title of the book that was sitting on the table, the one that Luhan had been reading. “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe,” Minseok read the title aloud. 

Minseok could almost swear that Luhan blushed. 

“I didn’t take you for a person who reads children stories.” 

“I don’t.” Luhan pulled the book towards him.

Minseok limped back towards the living room, not caring to argue.

  
  
  
  


Luhan was more than willing to turn the car keys over to Minseok. He did ask a few pertinent questions first, like if the pain would be too much when Minseok stepped on the pedals. Once he was assured that Minseok could drive, he was relieved. The passenger seat of a vehicle had never looked so enticing.

During the hour plus drive Luhan stayed quiet. He hadn’t slept much the night before, too nervous for what could potentially happen during the meeting today. If Chanyeol had an inkling of what Luhan had been up to in the last few days there would be little doubt that Luhan’s life was in danger. 

There was no way that Chanyeol didn’t know that Minseok had escaped. His body would be missing from the club and the trail of blood that led out the back door would quell any additional questions of an escape route. But did he see Luhan run as well?

“I will be back at the garage at five. I’ll wait for twenty minutes. No more and no less. If you don’t show I am leaving,” Minseok announced as they neared the city of Busan.

He couldn’t argue with Minseok’s decision. Not with what they were dealing with. Waiting would put Minseok at risk.

“Can I at least know your phone number, in case something comes up?” Luhan wanted that much. If he could memorize it then he had a chance to get out - assuming something of the nonlethal variety occurred, like traffic congestion or a lack of cab drivers.

Minseok gripped the steering wheel. It was a full minute later when he rattled off the number, clearly irked at having to do so. 

Luhan repeated the string of numbers in his head the entire way to the parking garage, barely paying attention to the scenery that passed by. 

“We are here.” Minseok stopped the car, pushing the shifter into park. 

Luhan looked around, trying to figure out why  _ here  _ was so…closed in. “We are in a parking garage?” Luhan had never seen a parking garage this small. It looked more like a very small storage shed, barely big enough to fit a car.

“Yes, part of one any way. The door is over there.” Minseok nodded his head towards a small metal door, a rusty thing that looked like it might fall off the hinges at any moment. 

Luhan failed to see how this was anything but a perfect way to be trapped in a corner, assuming they ended up being followed. 

“Taxi should be waiting across the street, near the bakery. Here.” Minseok pushed some money into Luhan’s lap. “And five, remember, I only wait for 20 minutes.”

Luhan clasped the bills, folding them in half and stuffing them in his jeans pocket. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.” Minseok hadn’t sounded very sincere about it, but Luhan supposed he hadn’t really either.

  
  
  
  


Minseok didn’t know if he still visited the small, cramped office very Tuesday. He had no idea if his routine had changed over the last three years. If he still played golf every Saturday morning with his father or spent every Thursday night entertaining the senior partners in his father’s law firm with long drawn out games of mahjong.

Minseok didn’t know because he had no reason to. Not after they had ended things, a messy and sordid month of almost going back, of almost giving in, of knowing without a doubt they were never meant to be to begin with. 

In three years the one thing Minseok did know is that it hadn’t been love. He didn’t love the man now, he hadn’t loved him then. It was sex, a person to drink wine with now and then, an apartment to fall into when all Minseok wanted was to relieve some stress. And the feeling had been mutual. 

They had great sex, but when it was done there was little to bond them beyond wanting to know they could have it again. Eventually that reality, among other things, made the separation a done deal. 

The other things, they had been hovering over them since the beginning. It wasn’t something that would work long-term and it didn’t.

Minseok parked the car behind the small office. The place looked vacant, if the lack of vehicles parked in the small lot was anything to go on. Still, it was worth a shot. 

He pulled the baseball cap down, a solid black cap that he had found stored in a closet back at the apartment. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he approached the back entrance with his head down. He still had his hand on the door, mid knock, when it opened. 

“You have to be shitting me.”

Minseok stared into wide brown eyes, unable to do anything but smirk. “Do Kyungsoo, it has been awhile.”

  
  
  


Sehun picked him up from the designated spot, the sidewalk in front of a coffee shop. 

Luhan got in the passenger’s seat, giving Sehun a brief nod in greeting. 

“Long time no see, Luhan.” Sehun pulled out of the parking spot, stepping on the gas hard enough for the tires to squeal. 

“Good to see you too.” Luhan kept his tone steady.

“Quite the shootout we had, huh?”

Luhan snorted. “Yes, it was a wonderful time. Loved it.”

“I bet you did.”

It was enough to send Luhan into full panic mode, albeit internally. He shifted in his seat but didn’t show any outward sign of the anxiety coursing through him. This would be it, he thought, they are going to kill me.

When Sehun pulled into the parking lot in front of the club – the same club where Luhan had escaped a chaotic rain of bullets – Luhan stiffened. 

“He is inside.” Sehun didn’t make a move to get out of the car.

Luhan took that as a bad sign.

  
  
  


“I thought you were dead.” Kyungsoo shoved a cup of coffee across his desk. “Still take it black, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Minseok took a sip of the brew, cringing at how awful it tasted. 

“Seeing as how you are sitting here I am going to make the wild assumption you are very much alive.” Kyungsoo was a small man, shorter than Minseok (who had his own complex about his height). Seated in a high backed leather office chair he looked even smaller, dwarfed by tall cherry bookcases that lines the walls behind the desk. “I am also going to assume you need something.”

“Always so perceptive.” Minseok set the coffee cup down, resolved to never touch it again if he could help it. The stuff had the consistency of sludge and tasted like it came from the sewers. “But first tell me about the wedding.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Ah, yes, the wedding. Flowers, tears, lots of relatives.”

Minseok nodded like he was soaking up everything Kyungsoo said, delighting in the vague description of the big day. Kyungsoo had been married four months ago to the daughter of a judge. A fitting match if there ever was one but far from anything that actually interested Minseok. No, instead it was bit of playful banter. Minseok had always liked to fray Kyungsoo’s nerves – in bed as well as out of it. 

“Now that we have that out of the way, what do you want?”

“I have an offer to make you, one that is sure to get you that next big promotion.” Minseok had hit on the idea of seeing Kyungsoo sometime between fending off Jongin’s poodle and teasing Luhan about his reading habits. When the thought entered his mind he knew he had to pursue it. The worse that could happen is Kyungsoo would say no. “I can nab you the biggest drug smugglers in Korea, assuming you want to work together.”

“You mean  _ you _ ?” Kyungsoo asked.

“No, I mean my brother.” Minseok countered. “I would suspect you will become a judge with this one.”

Do Kyungsoo, Busan Special Prosecutor, couldn’t disguise his disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. I am serious.” 

“Fuck.” Kyungsoo leaned back in his chair and smiled.

  
  
  


If Luhan hadn’t witnessed the shootout himself he would never have been able to discern it had occurred at the club. The place was spotless, polished wood and perfectly place furniture. How they had managed to clean up the aftermath of the gun battle so quickly was beyond Luhan’s comprehension. 

Luhan walked passed a few men he recognized from that night. The tall, lanky guy who had been Minseok’s bodyguard. A shorter guy with sandy blonde hair. Faces that were etched into his memory, their features partially obscured by the smoke and anger of that night. 

He stared straight ahead. One step, two steps, three steps, four.

“If it isn’t my long lost friend!”

Luhan had braced himself for a bullet, instead he was swept into a bear hug. Chanyeol picked him up off the floor and swung him around, not unlike something done to a child. When Luhan had two feet back on the ground Chanyeol patted him on the shoulders with the utmost affection. “How have you been?”

“Ah, I would think I should ask you the same thing. Your brother…” Luhan wanted to test him, even if it was risky. It was a spur of the moment push, a spur of the moment comment to see how Chanyeol would react.

“Rest his soul. Please,” Chanyeol gestured towards one of the leather club chairs, “sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

Luhan took a seat, the disarming greeting putting him slightly at ease. He was still racked with anxiety, still fearful of what may happen at any moment. 

“Zhi Xiang is still interested in making this deal, as am I.” Chanyeol spoke quickly. “Though we need to pick up where my brother left off. I need to meet your supplier.”

“Did you talk to Zhi Xiang about it?” Luhan asked.

“No. I was waiting to see if you would show. You had such a bad time the other day and I am truly sorry for it. Kame sends his regards as well.”

At the mention of the Japanese man Luhan shivered. “I will talk to the others. How can I contact you?”

“I was assuming you would take up an offer of hospitality once again, make it easy for us to get in touch with each other. You can return to the apartment you were staying at.” 

Luhan swallowed. No, he couldn’t. He needed to get back to Minseok. “I prefer finding my own accommodations.”

“How odd.” Chanyeol pursed his lips. “There isn’t a reason for that, is there?”

“Almost being shot.” Luhan waited for Chanyeol to argue. 

“Very well. Have Zhi Xiang contact me when you are ready.” Chanyeol stood up, signaling the meeting was over. 

Luhan had never been so thankful to leave in his life. He bowed politely before making his way towards the door.

“Luhan, one more thing!” Chanyeol called after him.

Luhan stopped but didn’t turn around.

“My wife said you should stop by for dinner sometime. I think she is excited to meet someone she can speak mandarin with.”

“Perhaps, later.” Luhan could barely suppress the building rage as he walked out of the club. That fucking bitch. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	3. Seho Rare Omega AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to even describe this except the general idea was Sehun knotting Junmyeon in a dressing room at the mall and I wanted some sort of story around it? idek / runs

Sehun ran his hands up Junmyeon’s sides, palms grazing the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He could smell the heat on him, the thick scent of want, of lust,  _ of need _ . On a normal day his scent was heady, a mixture of sweetness, of musk – a combination that Sehun found both alluring and oddly endearing (if one could describe a scent that way). But now it was just intoxicating, drawing Sehun in closer.

A flush was creeping up his neck, to his cheeks. Sweat began to form on his brow. He radiated warmth as he nuzzled into the crook of Sehun’s neck, desperate for the scent of an alpha. 

“Junmyeon,” Sehun said quietly, the way his voice cracked surprised him. He couldn’t help but be affected by the omega in his arms, no matter how inappropriate or inconvenient the place or time. 

Junmyeon whimpered in response, hands going to Sehun’s shoulders, to his neck, body pressing forward to close any remaining gap between them. 

Sehun’s hands went to the small of Junmyeon’s back. He let Junmyeon rut into him in slowly, let him take the bare minimum of what he needed at the moment. 

“We can’t, not here,” Sehun whispered, not possessing enough willpower to act on his words. 

“Please,” Junmyeon whined. “Please.”

It wasn’t easy to deny him, to try to reason out how wrong it was to do what they were doing  _ where  _ they were doing it. 

“Please,” Junmyeon whined once more, lips grazing along Sehun’s collarbone. 

“O-kay,” Sehun said with a shaky breath. After all, he couldn’t technically say no, could he? Or maybe he could. It wasn’t like he had the contract in front of him. 

  
  


It was all Chanyeol’s fault. He was the one who had bought Sehun the unconventional birthday present to begin with. A present that came in the form of an omega with silver hair and a rather unpredictable nature, price tag unknown. Sehun had balked at the gift, which didn’t’ seem like much of a gift at all. Hell, it seemed like slavery based on what Sehun understood of the arrangement. 

“Bro, everyone is doing it,” Chanyeol had said, patting Sehun on the back.

“Bro, if everyone jumped off a cliff–“

“Yeah, I would,” Chanyeol answered without hearing the rest of the question. “At least if someone like Kyungsoo was waiting for me at the bottom.”

Right. Kyungsoo. That was the name of the omega that Chanyeol had received for Christmas. Sehun had met him a handful of times and was slightly afraid of him. He didn’t’ say much and he seemed to have a hell of a lot of control over Chanyeol. It was kind of mind blowing, really. 

Omegas weren’t something that existed in their society, hadn’t been for at least three centuries. Disease and genetic mutations had doomed them. 

But like many things, the combination of ambition, idiocy, and a lust for profit brought them back. A scientist with great funding and knowledge of gene splicing was all it took. Predictably the entire operation fell under the weight of capitalism almost from the get-go. Omegas didn’t’ walk around free like betas or alphas. They were produced, they were sold. And they were sold for the express purpose of breeding. 

Sehun thought the entire thing was perverted. For centuries his society had reproduced via laboratories, via the combination of genetics and artificial wombs. Sex existed, but it was for pleasure, not breeding. Yet in the last ten years advertisements had cropped up all over the subways and space ports, claiming that in-person breeding was the  _ Old Fashioned Fun You Never Knew You Needed _ !

Right. So buying an omega, or being given one as a present for the express purpose of fucking until they were pregnant seemed a bit…antiquated. Cruel. Just wrong. Sehun tried not to judge Chanyeol for it, but now he was seriously reconsidering. You know, since the dumbass had thought it was a great idea to buy him one. 

“I can’t own someone,” Sehun hissed under his breath, mindful of the omega who had moved a little closer to where he was standing. 

“What, you want me to take him back?!” Chanyeol said, loud enough for the omega to hear. “Sehun, that would be mean.”

Sehun glanced at the omega, noticing the frown that formed on his face. Shit. 

“Just go, I’ll deal with it,” Sehun said, pushing Chanyeol away. He could free the omega once his idiot friend was gone. Give him cab fare and send him to….wherever you sent omegas to. 

“Enjoy!” Chanyeol said with a wink and one last smile. 

Sehun had to fight hard not to punch his friend in the dick.

  
  


The omega, Sehun learned, had a name. Junmyeon. He came from an omega facility a few cities over, had papers that touted his genetic prowess. He had been sent to school, knew how to drive. Judging by his vocabulary and general demeanor Sehun had little doubt Junmyeon was much smarter than him. 

Once Chanyeol was gone, Junmyeon introduced himself. Explained his life thus far at a high level, like he was making sure Sehun knew his gift was of the utmost quality. He had an entire spiel about how happy he was to meet Sehun. And all the while he was talking Sehun was on his tablet, looking up what to do next. 

There didn’t seem to be omega shelters or homes or…anywhere, actually. Every search came up with results that were less than helpful. No, he didn’t need to know what to feed an omega. He didn’t’ need to know what omegas liked to do for fun. 

“Excuse me.” Sehun looked up from his tablet, interrupting Junmyeon’s ramble about his knowledge of fashion and fabric care. 

“Yes?” Junmyeon blinked at him. 

“Do you um…” Sehun chewed his bottom lip and cursed Chanyeol. The entire situation was unbearably awkward. “Where do I send you?”

Junmyeon tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep you so where um, what…is there an omega home somewhere?” Sehun asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Omega h-o-me?” Junmyeon responded, clearly confused. 

“Yeah. A place you can go. To be free, or whatever.” Sehun waved his hand in the air for emphasis. 

“You want me to leave?” Junmyeon’s bottom lip jutted out. 

Sehun had to look away. Was he pouting? What the…”I can’t own someone. It’s wrong, so yeah, I want you to leave.”

“Who said anything about owning me?” Junmyeon asked. 

Sehun looked over at the omega. It was his turn to blink in confusion. “You...are a gift to me? Listen, my friend is a dumbass and doesn’t seem to think gifting a person is wrong. I just can’t own you, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t own me. I own you. At least for the duration of the contract.” Junmyeon walked over to where the paper was sitting on the dining room table. He picked it up and held it out to Sehun. 

Sehun grabbed it from his hands and scanned the paper, eyes going wide as he read the fine print. 

_ The Omega will have express and sole access to the Alpha until two medical professionals have independently verified that the Omega is pregnant by the contracted Alpha.  _

_ The retainer is for exclusive access to the Omega and is nonrefundable.  _

_ Any breach of the contract by the Alpha will result in a penalty to be paid to the Omega, the lesser of five hundred percent of the retainer fee or one hundred thousand dollars.  _

“What?! How is this legal?!” Sehun yelled, waving the paper dramatically. 

“Your parents signed it. They have legal control over you until you are thirty years old and my understanding is that you are twenty four. My parents, the scientists who created me, agreed to allow me to do this. Once we breed and I am expecting, the contract will reach completion. Of course we can draw up a new one if I want you to stay with me and your parents agree,” Junmyeon answered casually. “Regardless of any contract extensions, I will use the retainer to help raise the child, therefore bettering society with a non-lab created offspring who will eventually enrich the gene pool and increase diversity. It is really a win-win for society.”

“You freaking bought  _ me _ ?!” Sehun couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure, he had never really looked into alpha / omega contracts before…he had just assumed how they worked, but this was, this was–– “Outrageous!”

“No.  _ You  _ bought breeding rights with me. A good old-fashioned tumble in the hay with a real, honest to goodness omega,” Junmyeon said calmly. “You’re free to go about your daily life as long as you promise not to breed with anyone else, even if the opportunity is highly improbable given the availability of omegas. Just remember, your dick is mine until there is a bun in the oven.” He put his hand on his middle and smiled. 

Sehun stared, mouth open, unable to comprehend what was happening. 

“By the way, happy birthday!” Junmyeon said cheerfully. “Do you want me to sing to you?”

  
  
  


“You sold my dick,” Sehun growled into the phone later that night. 

“What’s that honey? Sorry, your dad has the radio too loud,” his mother said from the other end of the line. He heard fumbling, his dad’s voice muffled in the background. “Okay, say that again.”

“Why did you sign that contract?!” Sehun yelled into the phone.

“Ohh, Chanyeollie must have been by. How do you like your present?” his mother cooed into the phone. 

“I can’t believe you…I–“ his words dissolved into an angry grumble, an incoherent string of syllables that were meant to convey just how pissed off he was with the entire arrangement. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Junmyeon walking from the dining room into the kitchen, cleaning up the vegan dinner he had prepared for them. 

“Remember not to use protection!” his mother said cheerfully. “Sorry sweetie but I need to go. Your father is having a fit about this baseball game. Happy Birthday again! My little boy is getting so big.” She feigned a sniffle before the call dropped. 

Sehun cradled the phone in his hand, glaring at it, directing the immense amount of rage and anger he felt at the small plastic device.

“Sehun, do you like tofu ice cream?” Junmyeon yelled from the kitchen. 

Sehun desperately wanted to throw his phone out the window. Or himself. 

  
  
  


Junmyeon was messy. He was well read. He left the toilet seat up. He was great at ironing. He complained when Sehun was out too late. He wasn’t that bad of a cook. He ate too much tofu. 

He was simultaneously the best and worst roommate that Sehun had ever had, albeit the most unwanted one. He had a job back at the facility he was from, which he drove to everyday. He was mostly considerate and left Sehun alone unless the other showed some interest in watching television or relaxing in the common areas of his apartment. He didn’t’ pry, didn’t go into Sehun’s room or try to get him to spend more time with him than he wanted. 

He told lamejokes but responded warmly when Sehun told him about his day. After a couple of weeks living together Sehun had, dare he admit, grown used to it. The omega was there when he left in the morning and came home shortly after Sehun. On the weekends Junmyeon watched movies with him and a few times they might have even fallen asleep on the couch together. 

Periodically he would explain bits and pieces of their arrangement when Sehun asked. Yes, the child was to be raised by him. No, Sehun wasn’t responsible. Yes, his heat would come soon but he couldn’t’ be sure when. No, he wasn’t looking for a relationship at the moment. 

And periodically Sehun would go online and try to figure out what the hell he could do about the entire thing, other than fulfill his part of the deal. 

Webpage after webpage claimed breeding an omega was an experience a hundred times better than sex with an alpha or beta. There were reviews, even a few books that espoused the miracle that was in-person breeding. He should feel lucky, was the general consensus. Having enough money to pay for breeding rights was something to be proud of. 

“Sehun, what do you think of the color mauve?” Junmyeon’s voice drifted from the other room. 

“What? What even is that?”

“Like purple, kind of.”

“I don’t know. Sure.”

“Great!”

Sehun closed his laptop and slumped down on his bed with a sigh. 

  
  


It took three weeks before he truly warmed up to the idea. And maybe, just maybe, a lot of his sudden acceptance started the day Junmyeon walked out of the bathroom naked, not knowing that Sehun was still there. 

Sehun had left for work a few minutes before but had forgotten his wallet. He rushed back, was halfway down the hall, when the bathroom door opened and Junmyeon stepped out. His hair was dripping wet from his shower. He stopped, freezing when he saw Sehun, who mirrored him and stood without moving. Both men stared at each other in horror. And then Sehun’s eyes went lower and  _ holy shit was Junmyeon hot _ . 

“I–“ Sehun felt his face flush, eyes raking over the omega’s tone abdomen, his thighs, his…

Junmyeon backed up into the bathroom, shutting the door with a loud thud. 

Sehun remained rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, a lump forming in his throat. _ Fucking hell.  _

  
  


It was the beginning of what Sehun referred to as his I-am-screwed-fuck-my-life period. From that day onward his attentions were very much focused on his previously unwanted roommate. On his scent, on the way he looked when he was walking from the living room to the kitchen. On how much Sehun wanted to pin him against the wall when he came out of his room in the morning with bed hair and a sleepy smile, his ass looking a little too inviting in the flannel pajama pants he liked to wear.

It was a never-ending list of things Sehun wanted to do, things he couldn’t help but see, and things he couldn’t really indulge in. 

The contract was very precise on contact between them. It was for breeding purposes, not to go beyond that unless a new contact was drawn up. And damn if Sehun was going to suddenly propose they go to a lawyer so he could give Junmyeon hickies all over his body. 

Not that he hadn’t considered it. There was a lawyer’s office a half a block away. 

He even stooped low enough to call Chanyeol and try to get out of him when Kyungsoo had his first heat, which was both a horribly embarrassing and expressly annoying conversation. Chanyeol spent an hour talking about how great Kyungsoo was without answering the question, leaving Sehun to face plant into his bed and kick his legs like a child. 

  
  


So Sehun settled for what he could. Which was asking Junmyeon out on a kind-of-sort-of not a date to get him out of the house and spend time with him. 

Which is how they ended up at the mall, Sehun carrying Junmyeon’s bags as he went from store to store, buying more clothing than Sehun thought one person could possibly need. 

“We should go there,” Junmyeon said as they traversed the far end of one of the massive Mall corridors. He pointed towards 


	4. Chansoo Gilded Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I started this for Chansoo week in 2017 (or 16 idk). I had good intentions but I feel like this is a lot of purple prose (or maybe not, again idk). I love the time period and the quiet desperation of the situation.

**Chapter 1: Firsts**

The wind blew in from the east, permeating the air with a salty taste, invading the interior of the carriage in a torrent that raged against the drawn curtains. The air stung against Chanyeol’s skin, numbing and unforgiving. A few strands of his hair blew free, escaping the slick his valet had smoothed over his naturally wayward locks earlier that morning. 

“I cannot believe you are laughing about this.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, now do I dear?”

He listened to the happy, carefree chatter of his younger sister and her friend, grasping at the measure of confidence it provided. He needed this reassurance, this banter in the background, to ease his nerves, to stop the dark thoughts that clouded what should be a happy occasion. 

“Chanyeol, when did mother say she would send Violet down?”

He tore his gaze away from the rocky coastline, from the view already marred by the rising dust of the long dirt path they travelled. 

“In a week, after they depart for the continent,” he replied, certain his sister had known the answer and only asked to draw him into conversation. 

“Brother, are you excited to see Mr. Do again?” Sooyoung inquired, changing the subject, her lips forever turning up at the corners, promising a smile. Chanyeol saw so much of himself in her sometimes, in her lighthearted expressions, in her eagerness to please everyone around her. Sometimes that realization hurt. 

“Of course. I need to make sure my little sister is well taken care of.” He played the part of doting older brother well, but he knew that he slipped up at times. His little sister wasn’t stupid, she saw the worry that had passed over him when the engagement was announced. 

“I still can’t fathom why they are having us out to Newport at this time of year,” Yerim sighed, smoothing her hand over her coiffure. Newport’s role as the bastion of summer society didn’t begin until July, they were two months too early according to the rigid calendar of their social set. Yet Do Kyungsoo had made a point to request his fiancee pay a visit to the family home and stay until their wedding in the height of the Newport social season. Chanyeol’s accompaniment was a given, the invitation already bordered on the bizarre, only agreed to because of how much the Park’s had to lose if they turned it down. This, after all, was their entrance into the higher echelons of society, to a place where they would be virtually untouchable, the envy of all. 

“Think of it as the invitation of a lifetime,” Chanyeol muttered, eyes returning to the passing coastline. “We beat everyone to it.”

“Of course! We are the social season this year,” Sooyoung crooned to her best friend, Yerim launching into a sarcastic diatribe of why a trip to Newport wasn’t needed, they already  _ were _ the social season. 

Chanyeol listened, breathing in the salty air, weighing his options, expecting the worse. Soon he would meet Do Kyungsoo for the first time and everything would change.

****  
  
  
  


The Do’s Cottage (a horrid misnomer given its opulence and size) was everything Chanyeol had expected it to be. Dare he admit the predictability of the interior and exterior bored him to death upon first sight and he hated when his imagination was joined with reality and the edges fit perfectly, all of the excitement gone. Even if the facade was different the feel was the same as the dozens other mansions that lined Bellevue avenue and snaked up Ochre Point. Massive constructs of stone and wood, designed by the finest architects from New York City and Boston, a mishmash of continental stylings and american’s love of the grandiose, the homes were given quaint names, shuttered during winter and thrown open during summer in a perverted pantomime of a middle class vacation ritual. The houses were built to shine, to outdo the next estate, to solidify the owner’s right to see and be seen. 

The Parks were building a cottage in Newport, ground broken on their Bellevue Avenue acreage the previous autumn. The Do’s already had a cottage -- a testament to their different positions in the chaotic ladder of New York high society. 

The Dos were old money. They had the right names in their family tree, the right smattering of early patriots and wealthy colonists. Their cottage was built with money inherited through the generations, not money that was earned, that was tainted with the stench of work, of industry and the everyman. 

The Parks built their fortune with railroads, steel, and oil, they were new money. Even if Chanyeol’s father was one of the wealthiest men in the United States he didn’t have the right grandfather, he didn’t have the right last name, he didn’t have the right blood to be seen as an equal to the Dos. The only thing he did have was a new connection, an engagement between his only daughter and the Dos eldest son born of a bad investment on the Dos part that left them cash strapped, willing to look down in order to maintain their place at the top. It would be the wedding of the decade, maybe of the century, brokered like any other trade on Wall Street. It was about money, it was about names, it was about family trees, and it was about society. It was never about love, or happiness, or genuine affection. 

When Chanyeol stepped out of the carriage in front of the Do’s cottage, he reminded himself that he was here to manage a business deal. A transfer of assets, albeit one that made him exceedingly anxious. He was sending his sister to her fate and gaining a step up the social ladder in the process, brokering it all amidst the salty tasting air and unforgiving winds that moved over Newport in early May.

****  
  


Do Kyungsoo, on the other hand, was nothing like Chanyeol imagined. The last time Chanyeol had seen him they were boarding at the same junior school, practicing latin and their numbers in an idyllic New England setting. It was a brief memory, Kyungsoo wasn’t there long before his parents sent him to be educated in Switzerland, trading the maples and rolling hills for the alps and more refined atmosphere. 

Their paths didn’t cross again in all the years since. Kyungsoo was in Europe when Chanyeol was out East. Chanyeol was on his grand tour in Europe when Kyungsoo returned to New York city, ready to take up his position in society. Chanyeol returned to New York and Kyungsoo took a steamer to the continent, preferring the european mindset over the rough hewn sensibilities of Americans, high society be damned (causing what Chanyeol recalled was a rather minor scandal considering he departed the day before his mother’s annual costume ball). 

And now that they were face to face, shaking hands and greeting each other with the formality of their social set, Chanyeol was surprised at the man before him.. He wasn't tall nor particularly imposing like one would imagine a Harvard oarsman to be (Chanyeol knew well enough Kyungsoo had rowed his team to first against Yale). He didn't’ wear the stern expression of his father or grandfather, the taciturn portraits of his ancestors well viewed pieces at one of the gentleman’s clubs in the city. His dark hair was longer than what was considered fashionable, pushed back away from his face, revealing a pair of wide, dark eyes. He was handsome, Chanyeol thought. His features clung to a youthful ideal, making him look softer and more approachable. 

“I trust that your journey went well.” His voice was deep and rich, a crackling fire hidden from the wind on a winter's night. 

“Yes, very well,” Chanyeol confirmed. 

“Are you tired?” Kyungsoo inquired, his eyes trained on Sooyoung, his fiancee. 

“Yes, a little,” Sooyoung admitted her fatigue with a sweet voice, Yerim holding her arm, displaying the great friendship the two women shared. 

“Your rooms are prepared, I shall have Abigail show you to them.”

Chanyeol hung back, observing how Kyungsoo directed his staff with a minimum of words, of gestures, showing how long he had existed this way.

“And you?” Kyungsoo asked his future brother in-law

“I would like a cigar. Do you smoke?” 

“Yes, I do.” Kyungsoo replied, the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

****  
  
  
  


“Do you like sailing, Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol exhaled, the grey smoke drifting towards the plastered ceiling of the smoking room. “Yes, thought I haven't had time of late.”

“I had my yacht brought up the coast early.” Kyungsoo puffed at his cigar, smoke drifting out of his mouth in wisps. “If the weather is fair tomorrow we should go sailing.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Chanyeol discreetly studied the man sitting across from him. His rigid posture, the cut of his dark trousers, the shine of his leather shoes. Short nails, small hands. Well put together. 

“I assume I won’t have much time to sail the closer it gets to the wedding,” Kyungsoo mused, not betraying how he felt about the fact. 

Chanyeol flicked the ash from his cigar, depositing the burnt remnants in the porcelain ashtray. “We should make the best of the next two months, before the others arrive.” Before their parents came and the guests filtered in. Before the wedding preparations reached a fever pitch. Before the wedding itself. 

“Chanyeol, may I speak freely?” Kyungsoo snubbed out his cigar and leaned forward, breaking his rigid posture in favor of a more casual approach. 

Chanyeol nodded, curious what this man, this blue blood, this son of wealth and impeccable bloodlines, had to say. 

“Do you love your sister?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol adored his younger sister, always had, likely always would. 

“Then don’t let her marry me, please.” Kyungsoo said it without emotion, without anger or sadness, regret or a hint of reason. 

“Why?” Chanyeol countered.

“I am a very bad person, Chanyeol, and she doesn’t deserve that.” Kyungsoo stood abruptly, smoothing his hands over his black coat. “I will be going first.”

Chanyeol stayed in the smoking room after Kyungsoo left. He pulled another cigar out of the ornate box, puffed on it while he considered what Do Kyungsoo had just told him. 

“Just how bad of a man could you be,” he wondered out loud, glancing around the room as if the cottage on Bellevue avenue could answer for its master. 

The first time Chanyeol met Kyungsoo, after many years apart, he was draped in smoke and mystery, hidden from the salty sea air in his opulent cottage, asking for things without explanation or emotion, an enigma in their orderly world. Park Chanyeol hadn’t been this intrigued in a long, long time. 

**Chapter : Harmony**

The gaff rigged cutter parted the waters with ease, the foresail bowing against the strong gusts. Chanyeol sat in the aft of the boat, spray dotting his skin when the vessel met and passed a wave. He watched Kyungsoo tackle the riggings, his hands deftly knotting the rope into a figure eight knot. On the bow of the ship was the name,  _ Harmony _ , the letters disappearing into the waves and emerging again, black neatly painted letters on the white hull.

Sooyoung had frowned when she had learned of their plans but she was well mannered - she would never complain. She buried her feelings, wishing the men a good sail. 

Chanyeol easily dismissed his sister’s opinion on the matter because he was intrigued. Do Kyungsoo, impeccable Do Kyungsoo, was something new in his staid and predictable life. Chanyeol hated to be bored, hated the repetitive nature of his existence and Kyungsoo baited him with his cryptic words, promising something that might be different, unusual - unique. 

Chanyeol watched the man as he worked, memorized the chaotic rearrangement of his hair at the arrival of a gale. He memorized the way his hands danced over the riggings, how his tanned forearms were revealed when he moved a certain way. He noted the way Kyungsoo’s dark eyes never betrayed him, never gave up what he was thinking or what he was feeling. Chanyeol studied the curiosity that was Do Kyungsoo, seizing the opportunity to visually dissect his future brother in-law, to look for a hint of what he had said the day prior in his mannerisms, in his movements. He watched, learning little. 

They skirted the rocky coastline, around Brenton Point, around Price Neck and Cherry Neck, sailing towards the outcropping of grass and rock that narrowly revealed itself to Bailey’s Beach on the south side. Kyungsoo dropped anchor close to the shore, slumping down, resting for the first time since they had boarded the boat. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Chanyeol remarked, appreciating the charming island with its rocky shoreline and deep green interior. 

“It is my favorite place,” Kyungsoo admitted. Chanyeol thought he looked happy, but he couldn’t be certain. 

Chanyeol smirked, an idea entering his head. It was in his nature to be frivolous, to smile widely and laugh at his own sense of humor. He didn’t show it much when he was in formal settings, his tendencies buried in polite society as they should be. For some reason being there, with Kyungsoo, with the small island, the spray of the ocean, the wind and the waves, he felt like he could say more than he rightfully should. 

“Do you think there is a pirate’s treasure here?” Chanyeol asked, imagining Captain Kidd being blown off course, ending up at this very place, grumbling at the rocky shore, his boat loaded with gold.

“This isn't’ Gardiner’s Island,” Kyungsoo responded softly, shaking his head at Chanyeol’s suggestion. He dismissed the idea but he did it in a lighthearted way, his lips forming a heart shaped smile as he considered it. 

Chanyeol felt a pull in his chest at the sight, a dull ache he didn’t understand. “Have you ever dug here? There may be treasure here.”

“Should we come back with shovels?” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrow, smirking.

“Yes, we should. When it gets warmer so we can swim ashore.” It was amusing to imagine them jumping into the ocean for a quick swim, shovels in hand, turning the green center into a smattering of holes. 

Kyungsoo sighed, eyes trained on the island. Chanyeol fell silent, appreciating the sound of the ocean lapping against the rocks. His thoughts turned yet again to the mystery of Kyungsoo’s words. He mustered the courage to chase answers. 

“When you said you are bad, what did you mean?” Chanyeol asked, hoping he would get an honest answer out of the man. “I can’t oppose a marriage if there is no reason to.”

“Does it not bother you that it was a deal made by our fathers?” Kyungsoo turned to Chanyeol, his expression unreadable. “It is a merging of a railroad or a new roof on our cottage not a marriage, not love.”

“You didn't’ answer my question, old boy.” Chanyeol remained firm, pressing for an answer, a clue, something. 

“And I won’t,” Kyungsoo muttered, moving to pull the anchor, moving to cast away the sedentary state that had allowed Chanyeol time to ask him such things. 

Chanyeol spent the voyage back to the grand cottage on Bellevue avenue watching Kyungsoo work, hoping to understand something more about the man who would be his brother in-law.

****  
  
  


“You shan’t get the better of me!” Sooyoung announced, croquet mallet in hand.

“I am afraid I already have, old girl” Yerim sing-songed, smiling widely.

Chanyeol stood on the terrace, amidst the blue and white chinese planters, the carefully manicured lawn stretching out from the house to the rocky coast. He sipped his brandy, watching his sister and her friend’s game of croquet in amusement. There was chill in the air, to be expected of early May, but it didn’t stop them from getting outside to enjoy the expansive grounds. 

Chanyeol smiled. Sooyoung was happy, she wasn't afraid. It had been three days at the estate and she hadn’t shown a sign of discomfort, a sign of dislike towards her future husband. They were courteous to each other, asking how the other slept or how they felt during breakfast, lunch, and diner. It eased Chanyeol’s heart to know that his sister wasn't suffering - at least yet. Kyungsoo's words still haunted him, fueled his curiosity.

“Don’t let your sister marry me.” Chanyeol had surmised it was a plea, that Kyungsoo showed no signs of breaking the engagement himself. He wanted Chanyeol to do it for him, but why?

“Brother! Come join us!” Sooyoung called, waving her mallet to get his attention. 

Chanyeol took one last sip of brandy, setting the glass down on an empty planter stand. He smiled fondly at his sister. “You shall regret asking me to play, you have no chance of winning now!”

He stalked across the lawn, forgetting Kyungsoo for the time being. 

****  
  


“If only the tennis club was open, “ Yerim remarked over dinner, bold enough to hint at the boredom that threatened to creep into their lives. Croquet was fun, but it wasn’t enough to keep everyone entertained for two months straight. Yerim knew Newport as a place to socialize but in May the clubs were closed, the great homes were shuttered, the social sphere they were used to was away in Europe or still in the city. There were no parties to attend, no drives along the avenue, no morning visits to embark upon -- the Newport whirl was stagnant. 

“You may play tennis on the lawn, I can have the staff set it up for you,” Kyungsoo readily offered, appearing to be a kind and accommodating host. 

“Thank you,” Sooyoung beamed at her fiancee. “You are so kind.”

“It is nothing,” Kyungsoo dismissed the complement, taking his wine glass and sipping the deep purple liquid. 

Chanyeol grasped his own wine glass, peering at his future brother in-law, wondering how thick the mask was, how totally it covered the real man. How long it would take to chip away the veneer of a respectable, old money heir and find the truth underneath -- the “bad” man that Kyungsoo had proclaimed was the real him. 

“We should go sailing tomorrow, if the weather is fair,” Kyungsoo suggested airily, setting his wine glass aside.

“Yes, we should.” Chanyeol readily agreed to the outing, even if it put a momentary frown on his younger sister’s face. The mystery he was chasing seemed to have a far better chance of being solved on a gaff rigged cutter, passing around Brenton Point, the spray passing over the bow in energetic bursts. 

****  
  
  


“What do you think of this house?” Kyungsoo asked, his words lilting, betraying the number of brandys he had consumed. He was sitting on one of the leather sofas in the study, Chanyeol sitting opposite. A slow fire crackled in the fireplace, dancing off the gold stamped leather walls and ebonized cherry bookshelves. 

The gentlemen had retired to the study after dinner while Sooyoung and Yerim had made their way to the music room and then on to bed. The men had played cards for hours, wandered into the billiards room for a friendly game, and returned to the study with less even steps. It was late into the night or early in the morning depending on how one wanted to view the hours. 

It had been at least two hours since Chanyeol had felt the overpowering warmth spread across his skin, down his arms and legs, to his digits. The heat of drunkenness and with it the shift in mood, everything becoming infinitely more agreeable than before. He knew his tongue had loosened when he had begun to scold Kyungsoo's style of play in a for more informal manner than was proper given the length of their acquaintance.

Chanyeol still retained enough of his wits to know he should think his response through, he should exercise at least an ounce of decorum. His true opinion was that the behemoth cottage was but another gilded cage among gilded cages, another show of opulence, marble from the Italian coast and Louis the XIV ballrooms. It was expected. It was like the others -- a grandiose display of wealth that measured ones importance to society.. It was boring, it was predictable, it was what Chanyeol hated most in life. 

“It is large,” Chanyeol answered, the corner of his lips tilting up in a smirk. 

Kyungsoo threw his head back and laughed at Chanyeol’s response. It was the first time Chanyeol heard his future brother in-law laugh, he liked the sound. It was carefree and strangely honest sounding. He enjoyed the accompanying visual as well, Kyungsoo’s lips parting, his dark eyes half closed, the apples of his cheeks prominent. Kyungsoo was handsome like this and Chanyeol couldn’t control his tongue, not completely. 

“You are handsome when you laugh,” Chanyeol said softly, eyes trained on his future brother-in-law.

“Only when I laugh?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow. He was still smiling, hands clasped in front of him as he met Chanyeol’s eyes. The mask had slipped, a portion of the man revealed. 

Chanyeol bit his bottom lip, the heady feeling of drunkenness tempered by common sense. Pushes, pulls, wants, needs. Foolish words spoken to foolish people in low lit drawing rooms, the strains of violins wafting in from the party they took refuge from. Rejection, embarrassment, guilt. Memories were enough for Chanyeol to sober. 

“I think it is time to retire, old boy. Goodnight.” Chanyeol stood, blood rushing from his head. 

“Goodnight,” Kyungsoo said quietly, the mask firmly back in place. 

Notes

  * Gardner’s island is in the Hamptons and it is well known that Captain Kidd buried treasure there. 
  * The island they visit is Gooseberry Island, which housed a luxury fishing club at the time (so obviously this is not historically accurate).



**Chapter 3: Sweet or Bitter**

“If you could change your fate….” Kyungsoo implied a question, never finishing his thought. 

Chanyeol thought Kyungsoo looked so small like this, hugging his knees to his chest while he sat in the aft of the sailboat, the vessel rocking to and fro lazily. They had sailed out to the open ocean, the coast of Newport a hazy ridge far off in the distance. The weather was fair, the winds providing enough power to sail without being abusive in its ferocity. 

“I would learn what makes you a bad person,” Chanyeol responded in an even tone. “That is how I would change my fate.”

Kyungsoo snorted. “You are certain you will never know with your current fate?”

“My current fate sees you reluctant to tell me,” Chanyeol countered. How many times had he asked, had he watched, had he wondered? How many times had Kyungsoo evaded him, the mask in place, the answers never coming. Even drunk Kyungsoo would not say, his mask only slipping in moments when he was laughing heartily, his emotions shining through. But the secret, the truth -- it was consummately hidden. “I cannot stop a wedding without reason.”

“I will tell you soon,” Kyungsoo promised, standing up and approaching the rigging. 

It was one promise Chanyeol vowed not to forget. “Very well, old boy. Very well.”

The sail back to land, back to the hazy ridge of rock, was quiet save for the sound of gulls and the clanging of the metal riggings.


	5. Xiuhan Boys Over Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had this mental image (humor /crack ofc) of Lu Han as Jun Pyo, but like....flexing his muscles in a mirror and building an Iron Man suit. Basically, crack-tastic. This is as far as I got.

Twenty five pounds of black bean noodles. Minseok stared at the saran wrapped packages, mildly curious about the high school student who ordered that many noodles with the request that they were only half cooked and “only one set of chopsticks please”. Whoever it was they were hungry, very hungry. 

“Why are you dawdling?! Go,go!” Minseok’s mother gave him a swat on the behind, spurring him on towards the door of their noodle shop. “You think we have all day to stare at orders - I need you back to bring the next one uptown before one, move!”

Minseok shot his mom a dirty look as he shoved the monstrous order into a take out transport container. “I’m going, I’m going.”

His mother didn’t hear him, she had already returned to the kitchen to shout orders at Minseok’s little sister and his father. Ah, the joys of working at a family business when said family business was run by the iron fist of his mother. 

Minseok hauled the heavy container to his scooter, half-considering it might not even fit in the back. When it did he inwardly groaned, because that meant he couldn’t go back inside and proclaim he was unable to deliver the order, that his father would have to do it in the rickety shop truck. Now he was screwed. Twenty five pounds of noodles, a half broken hot pink scooter (his mother claimed it wasn’t color that made the man) and an address in the richest part of town was his destiny. Minseok loved his life, really.

He loved it so much he had no regrets when a truck full of vegetables passed him halfway to the delivery address and a cabbage fell out and smacked him on the arm. He loved life so much he couldn’t help but smile when the only working side mirror on his scooter fell off when he tried to take a shortcut down an alley and smacked into the side of a hair salon (really though, was it necessary for the woman to scream that much he barely hit her). Smile, keep smiling Minseok, he repeated. Fake it till you make it. Happiness comes from within - or so the cheap wood sign in his bedroom said. At least it wasn’t one of those live, laugh, love ones. 

He puttered up to the exclusive high school five minutes late and perilously close to running out of gas. It was lunchtime, which meant the campus was bustling with students and faculty. Minseok scanned his surroundings, noting how the uniforms at this school were extremely appropriate. As in they looked like they cost almost as much as the luxury cars he had driven past on his way up the main drive. Rich people, MInseok thought, didn’t need signs that told them happiness came from within. They could buy happiness, it must be nice. 

Misneok swung his leg over his scooter, put the kickstand down, and then went about the task of hauling twenty five pounds of black bean noodles to room E4, wherever in the hell that was. Why couldn’t he just leave the order with the secretary? Rich high schools were certainly different, he mused. At his school (which was currently closed for conferences) you couldn’t wander the halls freely. Everything went through the main office, everyone had to sign in. It was all for safety reasons. Here, judging by how the door opened without a badge scanner, you could walk in freely. The rich must like to live dangerously. 

Minseok spotted an older man standing near a classroom. Luck was with him, he decided as he approached the salt and pepper haired man. A teacher could tell him where E4 was, he wouldn’t have to ask one of the students - who had already shot him plenty of disdaining looks.

“Excuse me, sir, where is room E4?” Minseok asked. 

The man did a once over, looking Minseok over head to toe before answering. “E4? Why do you want to know?”

“Delivery.” Minseok tapped the top of the large metal container. 

The man’s eyes lit up. “Delivery! Yes, of course. This way.”

Minseok trailed after the man, a difficult task considering he was walking so fast and Minseok had twenty five pounds of black bean noodles to carry. Minseok's luck, returned when after a few turns down the hall they stopped in front of an elevator. 

“You’ll have to buzz to get in.” The man pointed at an intercom beside the elevator. 

Minseok found it odd that he had to use an intercom to enter a classroom when he could waltz right into the school, but whatever. He pressed the button and announced “Fast and Speedy Kim Noodles. Delivery for Mr. …” Minseok squinted at the receipt, “Lu.”

The elevator dinged and opened, the intercom was silent. 

The teacher shuffled onto the elevator, beckoning Minseok to enter. It was only on the way up to the classroom that Minseok noticed the teacher had a camera. Strange.

“Do you teach photography, sir?” Minseok asked, motioning at the device. 

The man looked at the camera in his hands and shook his head. “Nope.”

The door dinged open before Minseok could ask anymore questions. He stepped forward, but stopped as he took in the room before him. There was no way this was a classroom. There were a few leather couches scattered in the room. Parquet floors, a flat screen television, vases that looked like they probably were Ming if Minseok even knew that that meant. A dartboard, game consoles, and wait was that a hot tub?! Minseok was certain his mouth was hanging open as he stared, incredulous at the sumptuous room. 

“Move it kid.” The teacher pushed past him, causing Minseok to stagger forward and nearly lose his balance. 

“Hey!” Minseok snarled at the teacher but he wasn’t listening. He had his camera out, and was snapping pictures.

Minseok hadn’t noticed the doorway on the far end of the room until it was opened. Two students (or were they teachers, they weren't wearing uniforms but they looked young) strolled in, panic settling on their faces when they spotted the teacher. 

“How in the hell did you get in here!” One of the students yelled. He rushed towards the teacher, bumping into Minseok in the process and sending the delivery boy crashing to the floor. Minseok snagged his leg on the metal container as he fell, wrenching his leg in the most painful of ways. He cried out and grabbed his ankle, writhing on the floor he heard a string of curse words from the student and what sounded like a struggle. 

“Get the fuck out of here!” 

“Too late, I have the pictures.”

“Luhan, don’t hit him!”

“Fuck if I’m not going to hit him, he’s going to ruin everything!”

“You already ruined your own life, assaulting a delivery boy and attacking a reporter all of which I caught on film, you little rich fuck!”

Minseok flinched , wanting to crying but curious what was going on at the same time. He choked back the pain and looked at the three men. 

The person who had knocked Minseok down was holding the teacher by the jacket, his face contorted with anger. A taller blonde student stood behind the other, trying to loosen his grip on the teacher. The three looked like they would explode into punches in a few seconds, which Minseok really didn’t want to be there for. Whatever beef they had between them was their problem. He just wanted a tip and to get back on his scooter - and probably off to the doctor and a yelling session with his mother. 

He struggled to stand, wincing when he put weight on his foot. Happiness comes from the inside, he repeated in his mind, trying to smile. Fuck smiling. He slammed his fist down on the takeout container. “Delivery! Give me my tip and I’ll be going.”

Three pairs of eyes focused on him. They all looked confused, like they had forgotten in the short span of time he was there. 

“You! It was you who let him in!” The student let go of the older man and turned his attention fully on Minseok. “Who in the hell are you?” He stalked over, looking every bit as violent and angry as he had towards the teacher. 

Minseok tried to take a step back but with his injured ankle he stumbled, falling to the floor again. “I’m the noodle boy!” Minseok screamed. He could hear clicks of a camera as he stared up at the angry student. 

“Oh my god, he’s bleeding!” The other student remarked in horror. 

Minseok glanced down and noticed for the first time the slowly spreading crimson stain on his pants. It was all of three seconds later when his world went back - he passed out cold. He never could stand the sight of blood.

  
  
  
  
  


A soft hum was the first noise he registered when he started to come to. Minseok swallowed. His mouth felt dry. He blinked his eyes open, a bright light greeting him and making him squint. His head hurt and his leg hurt, which brought his mind back to what had happened earlier. With a start he sat up, confused what exactly had happened. The last thing he remembered was screaming “I’m the noodle boy” and then...blood. 

“Minseok, it’s okay.”

Minseok looked to his right, momentarily confused why his best friend was sitting next to him. He glanced around, the realization he was in a hospital room dawning on him. “What happened?!”

“You passed out during your delivery. Looks like you cut your foot and sprained your ankle. Doctor says you’ll be fine but you’ll need crutches for a few weeks,” Kyungsoo rattled off. 

Minseok leaned back and took a deep breath. 

“Do you remember how it happened?” Kyungsoo asked, his wide eyes (his most prominent feature) going even wider. 

Unfortunately he did. “I was clumsy.” It was best to leave it at that. Not that he didn’t trust Kyungsoo, it was more that he was extremely embarrassed. His best friend didn’t need to know everything, after all. 

“I’m not surprised,” Kyungsoo snorted. He knew Minseok well, they had grown up together. Kyungsoo’s parents owned the taekwondo studio next to Minseok's parent’s noodle shop. Kyungsoo was a year younger than Minseok. Even if they had been in different grades in school they were inseparable outside of it, always together when they had time. 

“Did they call my parents?” Minseok asked. 

“Yep. Your mom said she’s too busy so I should come.”

Minseok had figured as much. He sighed. 

The door opened a moment later and the doctor and a nurse came into the room. After a quick rundown of what Minseok could and couldn't do, plus a lesson in using crutches, he was discharged. 

Kyungsoo hailed a taxi outside the hospital, carrying Minseok's crutches and helping him from the hospital wheelchair into the waiting cab. 

“Sounds like you’re going to be laid up for a while. You want to borrow my tennis anime?” Kyungsoo asked.

Tennis anime. Why not. “Sure.” Minseok smiled. At least now he would have a break from delivering noodles. Perhaps this was all a blessing in disguise.


End file.
